Dream of Me
by SailorSilvanesti
Summary: Waking from a Horrifying Nightmare & running half-naked through pelting rain to the castle at midnight, Robin sets off a chain of events that cannot be undone. For better or worse. And why do the Slayers want him dead? Please R&R, 1st Young Dracula fic!
1. Chapter 1: Screaming in the Dark

**Disclaimer: I do not Own Young Dracula, or any of it's characters...**

**This is my first Young Dracula Fic, I would very much appreciate Reviews. ^^ Robin Branaugh being my favourite character, [Vlad a Close Second] this is about them, but not Slash...unless someone asks really nicely...**

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><p><strong>~*Dream of Me...*~<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Screaming in the Dark...<strong>

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Rising up in a giant, gasping panic; bedsheets fell back from his heaving form, as sweat-soaked as his glistening brow in the dim light. Dark hair was plastered to it; frantically he scrabbled with clammy palms to remove the wet strands and breath _normally,_ as air forced itself into reluctant lungs like a drowning man...

It couldn't have been real...'_course not,_ but...it had seemed that way. Had seemed _like_...like there had been nothing he could do and-..._forget this_! He threw the sheets off his half-naked body and scrambled from the bed, forgoing even the idea of a shirt or shoes, though it rained in torrents outside. He had to, ...to _know_ he was alright, he had to see Vlad...

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Pounding upon the door was almost as relieving as it was terrifying; cold hard fear settled within his chest, just as icy raindrops -like those that had pelted his lone form as he slogged through the sudden muddy mess of the hill leading up to the Count's Castle- stung the soft, pale skin of his bare back.

It was not, however, Renfield that answered the tall ominous doors he pounded on so frantically...but Vlad's father, the Count and he did not look pleased. "And what...would a _breather_ such as yourself be doing here at such a time?" Dracula demanded in an ostentatious manner,fangs on show and cape swirling menacingly; at any other time, Robin could have appreciated the Count's flair for the dramatic, but now, he couldn't care less in the haze of his uncertain panic.

Lingering dread gripped at his heart, words formed slightly in his mind but crumbled away like dust in a strong wind, "I...there was-...just...!" The sounds jumbled over each other, and he could not help but notice -even in the back fragment of his mind that was screaming for self-preservation- the way the Count was gazing longingly at his exposed neck; he knew he should feel frightened, but it barely even registered under 'Concern' in his whirling mind.

Drawing in a deep breath, that both of them knew was simply for show as the Vampire didn't actually _need_ to breathe, the taller pale man glared at him, scrutinizing his form in complete silence. Suddenly, Robin was aware of his own ragged breathing, and the tiny tremors that were swiftly manifesting into violent shivers, all over his body; when had he gotten so cold?

"Boy, whatever could have possessed you to come here now -of all times- and partially naked? No, wait...something is..._different _about you, it will come to me shortly." The Count placed a hand on his shoulder, and -in a surprising turn of events- Robin found himself leaning into the warmth emanating from the long-dead Vampiric hand...which meant he was _really_, dangerously cold.

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"Yes, well," muttered the Count, noting the cool touch of the boy's skin, frantic look to his eyes, and the way he seemed to be _leaning into him;_ mmmm, did the boy's neck look simply delectable now! He shifted slightly uncomfortably under the dark look he was receiving and attempted to regain his dignity. "As you seem to have lost all power of speech in my obviously terrifying presence, _breather_, you had best come in..." He swept the unresisting human inside and over the threshold with a flick of his cape, slamming the door without effort.

"Yeah, like _that's_ ever been a problem with Vampire-worshiping _Branaugh _over there, you fawning old goat-biter!" shot the sarcastic voice of Ingrid, as she stormed down the staircase and glared at them both. The Count glared at his most hated offspring, whereas the boy simply remained fixedly staring at the cold stone floor...

"What the Hell is he doing here, anyway and- _augh_! Branaugh, _get a shirt on_! Your skin's so pale it's actually glowing!" Ingrid cried out, scrunching her eyes up and raising a hand as if to prove her point that Robin actually _was_ blinding her with his painfully pasty complexion...

For his part, the Count rather fancied it made the young mortal look like a rather delectable pastry...but maybe that _was_ just his opinion...

"What, jealous?" came another voice from further up the staircase, which elicited a rather drastic head snap from the up-until-that-point-motionless boy before him, as Robin turned his gaze up to stare at Vlad. "Son, Heir, favoured child! Come down and see to your Breather friend, he seems to have gone quite mad...I may even allow you to keep him as an amusement if that is truly the case! Ah, mad people...your Great-Great-Great Aunt Ilgorine had a whole Asylum full of them once, ah, what fun and entertainment they were..." His eyes began to glaze over as he remembered all the vile things he and the others of his family had done there...such wonderful family memories...

But still, something nagged him about the boy before him...something was _different_...

~~~)0(~~~

Descending the stairs with enormous speed, the object of his terror stood unscathed, washing away all his fears just be being there. Taking a step forwards, his friend tried to speak, "Robin? What are you doing here? Oh, you're all wet! Why-...? Oof!" He flung himself at Vlad, wrapping his arms around the other and squeezing for all he was worth, "_You're safe_..." he mumbled in the young Vampire's ear.

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**_TBC..._**

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><p><strong><em>I hope you Enjoyed this Chapter, please Review.<em>**

**_Next Chapter coming as soon as I can type it... _****_"Chapter 2: Have you Ever Seen the Moon, Vlad?"_**


	2. Chapter 2: Have You Seen the Moon, Vlad?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula, or any of the characters...**

**Chapter 2 is now up!^^**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Have You Ever Seen the Moon, Vlad?<strong>

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Feeling the chilled skin pressed against his own, Vlad began to panic; Robin was completely sodden, trembling, half-naked and apparently, partially bonkers. What had brought this on? And what did he mean when he had murmured..._'You're Safe...'_?

Still, it didn't really matter, did it? He threw his cape -which he was, for once, thankful his father had insisted he wear- about the two of them, for it seemed Robin was intent on staying where he was and not letting go. In a moment of compassion, he gently patted his friend on the back.

"Uh...yeah, I'm...safe, Robin. Why'd you think I wasn't?" he asked carefully, stiffening in surprise as his friend's strange, suddenly wild gaze caught onto his own. Fighting the urge to shrink back, he actually forced himself to lean closer as Robin whispered, "_You...you don't want to know. I-...I had a dream that...-that Mr Hellsing had finally managed to...look, forget it. It was just a dream, you're still alive...unalive...whatever, right? Just forget it, mate._"

Suddenly, Robin had gone completely stiff, eyes wide and staring as he gazed to where Ingrid was storming away, back up the stairs and called, "Ingrid, did you...did you tear your jumper on the tree outside your window? When you were going to see Will, but ended up coming here instead because of all the yelling?" At those words, the Count snapped out of his reverie in the exact same moment that Ingrid's form went frighteningly rigid, she whirled about with a murderous expression on her face, "What, stalking me now Branaugh?"

The vague look increased, "No...I, I can't explain, but I knew...Vlad, this is _bad_! As in _really _bad! We have to get you out of here, before-..." he tried to say, but the Count had grabbed his bare arm and pulled him close to his body, "Before, _what _precisely, Breather? You keep-..." there was a sharp intake of breath -quite a feat, since he did not require it- then the Count grabbed Robin by the chin and tilted the not-quite-focused eyes up at his own...

His eyes grew a vague yellowy-golden in colour as he stared at the boy, "Calm down, breather...now, speak! Tell us of the reason you have intruded into my Castle at such an hour!"

Well, he'd be a giant stuffed bat toy if the surprise didn't show on his face when the boy calmly looked back with that strange, unfocused look and simply replied, "No."

But that would mean...

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"_By the Gods_," he hissed through his fangs, pushing back the saturated hair of the trembling Human before him, and there it was...the answer...

~~~)0(~~~

Shining on the too-pale forehead of his friend, just below the fringe of lanky -currently sopping wet- hair, was a small mark...like a small, dark dagger of pitch black with red blood dripping from it's blade; growing clearer and clearer with each passing second... How had he failed to notice _that_ before? Vlad wondered to himself in surprise, surely, something like...well..._that_...would be obvious. Wouldn't it?

Ingrid, herself, gasped and dropped all pretense of nonchalance for surprise and more than a dash of fear, she came down the stairs, four at a time. His Father raised a hand to ward off any words, and for once, she complied; the Count turned to him, "Well, well, well, Vlad...it seems I have misjudged your taste in friends...this breather may be useful to us after all..." he said in an oily voice, slick with some conniving scheme that had him exceptionally worried for Robin's safety. "Oh, fear not...I promise you he won't end up as an appetizer...not even _Ingrid_ would be _that _stupid..."

Said Vampiress-to-be stamped her foot in anger and glared, but remained silent.

"What?" he finally asked in exasperation, mirroring the exactly look of confusion Robin was wearing at that exact moment, "Yeah, what...are...you talking...about?" questioned Robin, rather dreamily. Vlad stared at him with concern, had his father done something-...? No. It was just...whatever was going on right now...

Vlad's Father then proceeded to do the strangest thing...pressing a finger from one hand against the mark, simultaneously capturing the boy's gaze again, and pressing something at the base of Robin's neck...he whispered something even Vlad couldn't hear and his eyes flashed red. The mist that covered Robin's eyes cleared, allowing a perfectly focused look to penetrate the room, before the irises manifested a strange deep purple-ish sheen.

"Now, tell us what you saw...Robin," he stated, for once using the boy's real name in lieu of something derogatory like 'human', 'breather', 'peasant' or 'YOU!' and to Vlad's surprise, Robin did...

What was going on?

**_~~~)0(~~~_**

_**TBC...**_

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><p><strong>This...might actually be one of those most agonisingly short-chaptered story I've ever written...O.O<strong>

**Does anyone like it? ^^ Please Review!^^**

**Will Upload soon!^^ **

**"_Chapter 3: Nighttime is for Nightmares & Prophecy..._"**


	3. Chapter 3: Nighttime is for Nightmares &

**Disclaimer: I do not Own Young Dracula, or it's characters...or this would be an episode...**

**Warning: Just thought I'd put it out there, there's a little bit of violence here that _'might offend some viewers_' so...just skim ove rit if it upsets you in any way!^^**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Nighttime is for Nightmares &amp; Prophecy...<strong>

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The voice that whispered from Robin's lips seemed both of him, and yet alien all at once...in no uncertain terms, was Vlad frightened...? Yes. Did this make any sense? No. And What the heck had his Dad just done to his best friend? These worrying thoughts gnawed at his mind, whirling about until it was all he could do to push them aside and focus on Robin's words...

"_When the night is at it's peak and sun begins to wane, Ingrid first flits from her room by climbing down the tower...but something stops her descent, pounding on the doors, I cannot see why though...climbing back through the window. A branch snatches at her clothes and tears the jumper, though she does not know it, it is best this way...for Will is not waiting for her under the branches of the dead elm in the Graveyard; but with friends at a party, speaking to a nice blonde girl with large...bows in her hair._

_There is shadow over the next part, I see only that there is uproar as Ingrid descends the stairs, followed by Vlad, moments later..._

_Silence..._

_Then it is light, but something is wrong...fire, explosions, running! Though the deep night it be, the Van Hellsings have contrived to drive the Draculas from the Castle with dynamite and other such explosive substances. In their furiously pounding hearts, they believe what they do is right...what they do will save mankind; but they are wrong, so wrong..._

_Zoltan and Renfield escape through the Kitchens, shocking the Van Hellsings into inactivity for the moment as they gape, then give chase as three Vampiric figures make their way out from the castle doors and into the night._

_They run through a forest, I know not where, but it seems like something is wrong here...none of them flit away as they should, but simply keep running. I do not understand..._

_Mr Van Hellsing is waiting, he must have anticipated the move, for he drove, even as Jonno -Jonathan- lit the fuses, and now, he traps the Vampires. In fury, like that she is famed for, Ingrid breaks free from the net that appears suddenly and winds it's way about her...curvacious...of forms; Vlad pauses to see if she needed help as the Count ran on, breaking through a steel cage that was meant for the younger Vampires._

_Then there is silence. Long and profound, worryingly so...and Holy Water sprays from the trees, like a summer shower turned deadly with acid, it eats at them all, Ingrid falls back over the tripwire and is destroyed upon sharp stakes in the pit below. Her dust, her remains flow through the air like ashes and settle to the ground, sodden and smoking. _

_The Count looks to Vlad and yells, "Come, we must go!" and makes to flit away...when he is staked by Jonno, who has run all the way from the castle at a slower pace than the supernatural one of the Vampires. _

_But he misses...intentionally. Whilst the Count pulls the stake from his arm and allows his fangs to descend, advancing on the boy; Mr Van Hellsing screams out in triumph and leaps to where Vlad is sheltering from the unceasing spray of the water. He grasps Vlad about the throat and pins him to a nearby tree with a maddened smile falling lopsidedly from his features, "Now...you're going to die, Vlad! I'm sorry about this, but look on the bright side, I won't fail that strange box you call a birdhouse when you hand in your project next week! Isn't that wonderful?"_

_Jonno's eyes go wide, straying from the yellowing ones of the Count as he leaps forward and yells, "Dad, no! Please!" His change of heart is too late, even the Count cannot react quickly enough as the stake is thrown downwards, towards Vlad's heart...the look of surprise on the man's face when his thrust meets the cracking of bone and blood is almost comical. Vampires do not Bleed, they 'dust', as far as he knows..._

_In the instant his fractured mind takes to process that he may have just killed the wrong being, his sanity breaks completely...and makes no move to stop the Count as the Vampire tears his heart from his chest; merely, laughing crazily until his body collapses, irises wide and unseeing..._

_Vlad's body hits the ground, blood seeping everywhere...the Count is full of anger and hatred, and not just for his son -though he would never admit to it- there is anguish over the loss of his eldest, the wretched girl-child...she had been a promising replacement should _just this_ occur..._

_Jonno watches with horrified eyes, making no move to run...just staring at Vlad's corpse, and an idea occurs to the Count, what better revenge could he take...than to turn a Slayer's child?_

_Two bodies lay side by side in the dirt now, both dead, one destined to rise and fight against those he once thought of as family...the other to remain so, a gaping wound leaking the last vestiges of cold blood from his pale body..._

_Ingrid is Dead. Van Hellsing is Dead. Jonathan is Dead. Vlad is...Vlad is Dead..."_

~~~)0(~~~

Tears were silently falling from the sharply focused purple eyes, though they stared into somewhere distant...the future, perhaps? Vlad began to breathe hard, "Dad, **_dad_**! Make it stop! You're upsetting him! What is going on?" he yelled, rushing to hold onto Robin, who was trembling worse than before... The warm breath that ghosted over his skin as he held the taller boy for a moment transferred into the softly spoken, "_I had to see if you were alright..._" Vlad hugged him tight, "I know, I'm sorry you had to see that...it doesn't make sense!"

Roughly, Vlad was pushed from Robin, and his father did the most amazing thing as he spoke, "Actually," he said, untying his cloak, "it makes perfect sense..." He flung the garment around the pale, trembling Robin's shoulders and wrapped him up without truly moving the boy. "He is...can't you see, Vladdy my boy?" The fact that his Father sounded like he was a child on Christmas morning, was staring to scare him... "He is obviously one of the _Signatum Sanguine Prophetae!_ A Blood-Marked Prophet!" The Count paused, obviously surprised at his son's utter confusion over such a momentous occasion...

Vlad held up a hand and pointed to the still silently staring Robin, gazing at nothing with fresh tears rolling down his pale cheeks, "Can you...can you make him stop? It looks like it's hurting him...whatever _it_ is..." An expression of recognition flittered across the older Dracula's features and he smiled, "Ah, yes...of course." Then repeated the same sequence as before, to leave Robin blinking slowly, as if waking from a long dream... "What...? I-...Vlad! We have to leave here now! They're coming now, I can...I don't know..._sense them_, they're almost at the start of our road!" But his body betrayed the urgency by choosing that moment to give out, forcing him to -what should have been- his knees, had not the Count swooped the mortal up and pressed the mark again, muttering...

Robin fell limp in an instant, and Vlad felt a lick of anger burning in his stomach, "What did you do?" he inquired hotly, voice sounding a little too much like a growl for his liking...but Count Dracula simply turned away and strode off down the hall, leaving he and Ingrid to follow.

**~~~)0(~~~**

_**TBC...  
><strong>_

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><p><em><strong>Yes...another Chapter...I'm sorry I left it hanging a little bit, it is going to get Awesomer-er Why yes, I did just make that word up... *shifty eyes* .<strong>_

_**Please Review and Let Me know what you think!^^**_

_**Next Chapter: "**_

**Chapter 4: Kiss My Eyes & Lay Me To Sleep..."**


	4. Chapter 4: Kiss My Eyes & Lay Me To Slee

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula, or it's characters...or this would be an episode... *Epic win Face***

**Enjoy!^^**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Kiss My Eyes &amp; Lay Me To Sleep...<strong>

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Watching the softly rising and falling chest of his far-too-pale-even-for-him-normally friend as he slept peacefully inside the coffin -and how long had Robin dreamed of exactly this moment? Now he wasn't even awake to enjoy it!- Vlad felt a strange pang of guilt. Was this somehow his fault? It certainly felt that way, and what had his father said? Something about _his choice in Breathers_ or something cryptically confusing for all involved...

"Is he alright?" he asked, tentatively, of the tall brooding night-creature that was his father; Count Dracula turned his red gaze to meet that of his only Son and Heir... "I should suppose so...the first prophecy is always the most difficult, always personal for some ridiculous reason!" he scoffed and laughed as if it were the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard... Vlad met him with a blank look.

"I don't think he even knows what's going on, Dad." supplied Ingrid, for once subdued and failing to even stir up a blustering comeback from the man she usually taunted mercilessly in their mutual hatred of one another.

The Count turned to Vlad in a moment of enlightenment, "Is this true? You don't know?" Vlad blushed slightly, shrugged his shoulders in the typical teenage '_How am I supposed to know?'_ gesture and averted his eyes from those of his Father's. Sighing over-dramatically [as with absolutely _everything_ he did] the Count leant against what was normally his coffin, uniquely cloakless for once and began to speak excitedly at the rather confused Vlad.

"For someone to be a _Signatum Sanguine Prophetae_ -a Blood Marked Prophet, if you want to use this English language all the peasants are so infatuated with these days...- is a very rare thing. There have only ever been a handful, even in Vampire Lore...maybe three or four in countless centuries of searching... Like your friend here, a magnificent example...

When a Breather is so attune to the ways of Vampirism, short of being one themselves or partaking of blood, they can bond with a Vampire in a very special way..." At this point, Vlad wanted to shove his fingers in his ears and sing nursery rhymes until his father agreed to leave the room quietly, the only downside...he might wake Robin up, and he didn't want to do that...

Sensing something amiss, his father looked at him and smirked, "Oh, not like _that_...although, it's not unusual...most end up pairing off eventually...No, I won't give you a History Lesson when there is so much else to do...

When a Vampire and Breather unite, in friendship mind you...or is there something you'd like to tell me...? No? Then stop blushing! You're a Dracula, we don't blush!...as I was saying, and the Human is particularly of a _special kind_ and in tune with that of the Vampire Kind, a transformation can occur... Like with...your friend, here. If the Lore is correct, they become a kind of extremely powerful demi-Vampire and the first skill they manifest is the ability to prophecy Doom and Destruction to those around them. I'm not actually certain whether it's for protection of them, or simply just a fun way to amuse oneself as they listen to the various ways they could have died..."

Vlad rolled his eyes, he would never get Vampire Humour..."Uh, Dad, didn't he just...you know...foretell our doom? Why are you so happy?"

The Count waved at him distractedly, "Potential Doom, my Boy, _Potential_...that's the difference, once you know you can avoid it completely! It is why they are so sought after...of course, not many Vampires would submit to luring a Human to friendship as you would...it also takes a special kind of Vampire for such things..." Opening his mouth to protest that their friendship was actually real and not simply some strange, elaborate scheme to conjure up something in Latin he'd never heard before, that was tormenting his friend with death-visions [and vaguely wondering how he would fit it all in one sentence]...but the Count barged on, regardless,

"As for what else he could do, I'm not sure...the only thing the other Marked Ones had was the Power of Prophecy...they all manifested different powers, and this mark...see it, Vlad? You too, Ingrid...come and gaze at what will bring Victory to our people...he has, even for his first prophecy, saved the life of the Grand High Vampire, this night! Ah, I must go and write to the Council!"

And he was gone...

~~~)0(~~~

"Alright," he rounded on the strangely dreamy face of Ingrid, as she stared after their father's dark form, "What do you know about this, then? Did you know it would happen?" But still, Ingrid did not look to him, but rather mouthed something he barely picked up, "_He cared...he actually cared when I died...I knew it!_" She smiled, blinked and turned to face him, "What? Oh, right...well, that was the basics, here's the rest...Normally _Vampire who likes humans as more than breakfast_, meets _Human who thinks Vampires are wonderful and wants to join their ranks_...friendship ensues. If the bond is close enough, just before the Vampire reaches his sixteenth birthday...or a significant date for them, if it's later on...the human can start to manifest strange powers of their own.

Increased speed, hearing, always the Power of Prophecy, better night vision, I think they get a little stronger but who knows? They aren't as powerful as us at any rate..." she shrugged.

He felt something twitch below his eye, "What...did Dad do to Robin?" he hissed, and Ingrid looked actually surprised by the question. "The thing with the Mark? The whole 'Vampire Hypnosis' Thing doesn't work on the Marked...so there are other ways to get them to behave...I _mean_, if you'd stop glaring long enough for me to say it, that often they can't control what's going on and need to be controlled themselves. Some famous clever-fangs way back in the early Renaissance period worked out how... Believe me, if Dad hadn't done it, your precious breather would still be standing there, frozen in the torment of the vision as it replayed over and over and over..."

Vlad's jaw dropped, "So this _is_ my fault?" he asked, incredulously. She clapped a far-too-familiar-for-someone-who-tried-to-kill-him-regularly hand on his shoulder and smiled menacingly, "Looks like it, but the Lore says you have to be _really close_ for it to work, are you and he...?" The slowly-closing jaw fell open again as Ingrid walked away laughing coldly, "Now, I just have to go deal with a _certain person_..."

_If I were Will,_ Vlad thought, _I'd Run..._

~~~)0(~~~

"V-Vlad?" rasped a voice through his dreams, "W-where am I? And w-why is it so c-cold?" He was instantly awake and by the coffin in an instant. Wrapping the cloak tighter about the other, "Hey, you're in my Dad's coffin, what, uh, what do you remember?" He silently prayed for the word Nothing to come tumbling from the other's mouth. Apparently the Vampire Gods weren't listening to him today...

"Everything...but right now I'm more concerned about how damn cold it is, Vlad..." hissed Robin through chattering teeth, curling up as best he could in the cloak. "We could always close the lid?" he suggested, "I only left it open so you wouldn't freak out and think we'd buried you!" He laughed and was amazed to see the look of intense concentration on his friend's face, "I think," Robin said finally, face bursting into a wan smile, "That would be awesome!"

Vlad sighed, sometimes he worried about Robin's mental health...

"Ah! Awake again, I see?" called Count Dracula as he strode into the room, fangs flashing in a brilliant smile, he looked straight down at Robin without even the smallest hint of wanting to eat him. "Enjoying it in there? I prefer a slightly older model, myself, but it does serve well over all the years..." Robin's concerned look fell to one of excitement, "Oh, yeah! I always wanted to sleep in a coffin, my dad says I'm completely mental and next time I mention it, they're sending me off for therapy or something..." He grimaced, shivering slightly.

"Well, that can be remedied easily..." stated the Count, ignoring the suddenly suspicious glares Vlad was throwing his way, "We'll just have to get you one to sleep in then!" Vlad frowned, "Dad, his parents would never, and I mean _never_ allow it! You've met them, seen what they're like?" His expression grew perplexed as his Father started to laugh, "Oh, silly boy, of course they would protest...but you see, it has been decided by the Vampire Council, he'll be living with us!"

Letting the horror on his face grow into an all-consuming mask, Vlad tried to ignore the exulted fist-pump Robin did in the background...

**~~~)0(~~~**

_**TBC...**_

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><p><strong>Wait for it...it gets more...well, Awesome! XD<strong>

**Next Chapter: _"Chapter 5: When the Bough Breaks...Ingrid Broke It"_**


	5. Chapter 5: When the Bough Breaks, Ingrid

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula, nor any of the characters...I just thought Robin should get a more awesome part...Ta Da!**

**You...will have no idea where this is going...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: When the Bough Breaks...Ingrid Broke It.<strong>

**~)0(~**

The exultant glow had faded from his still slightly-purple eyes, "They'll never go for it...Mam would throw a fit if I tried to bring it up with her and Dad..." Robin shuddered and sat upright, Vlad reached over to push him back down but the Count stayed his hand. "And what," he smiled toothily, "makes you think they will be getting a say in this...?" he inquired of a suddenly shocked Robin, whose face was rapidly adopting a look of cunning that was starting to scare Vlad...

With a loud crash and a thump, Ingrid returned, hurling Will through the nearest window with a malicious look of hatred on her face, hand raised and fingers curled into claws as if to tear out his heart...when purple eyes flashed in the near total darkness and the strange voice issued again,

"_Will's blood will spread over the flagstones of this castle, to the delight of her father...but what would she say had she seen the busty blonde with large bows in her hair? She did, gazing through the windows of the illuminated home, parents gone and forbidden drinks were free...but her quick eyes missed how the girl poured even more love potion in his drink, the sixth that night...  
>To kill him would be to stake herself through the heart...<em>"

Shocked silence gathered the strange proclamation seemingly from out of nowhere, Ingrid dropped the unconscious form again and flitted to the side of the coffin in less time than it took to blink, reaching out to hold the human's chin as she stared into his eyes. "What did you mean?" she said softly, but Robin only shook his head, lips parting long enough to say, "I can't tell you the future just like _that_...or can I? If you ever want a daughter- _ahh_!" He sucked in a deep breath of air as pain lanced behind his eyes... "-or maybe not, it's supposed to be a surprise...the girl, she's a witch. I think...I think she's helping the Hellsings...but she'll be gone by tomorrow, the Slayer's Council has decreed that she be burnt...for being unnatural." He frowned at those words, but remained silent...

A look of smug satisfaction lit up Ingrid's features as she stated, "All's well that ends well, then!" She let his face drop, turned, hauled the unconscious Will over her shoulder and flitted away, presumably to dump him home...

~~~)0(~~~

Crunching sounds met the ears of both remaining Vampires, the Count smiled down on Vlad with pure excitement in his quickly reddening eyes, "Come, Vladdy, it seems we are to have visitors..." he stated, clapping a rather hard hand in congratulations to Robin's shoulder. "Ah, but first...we should see about getting you some better clothing, no Marked One is going to go about half-naked in my castle! Vlad, let him have some of your clothes..."  
>Christmas may very well have come early for Robin...<p>

~~~)0(~~~

Considering the Vampire fanatic he was, the whole idea of being allowed to actually wear some of the clothes he had gazed longingly at for ages, was a dream come true! He ransacked the drawers and wardrobes, all the while Vlad sat patiently on his bed and watched, a slight smile on his face, but tension, and more than a small bit of apprehension coloured his features...

"How's this them?" he asked, coming around the door of the wardrobe; the outfit was very similar to Vlad's own, the only difference being the length of the clothes...they were part of an outfit his grandparents had sent for him to 'grow into'...and wouldn't they just be _thrilled_ that a Human was wearing them?

Actually, they might considering he was this weird half-Vampire Prophet-thing...

~~~)0(~~~

"How do I look, then?" asked Robin, swirling about in the dark, vampiric clothes and the long, dark cape. Vlad blinked, "Pretty much like you normally do...but more...Vampire-y?" he suggested, trying to say something positive, thought he didn't really see any big difference apart from the authenticity of the clothes. Robin had always been pretty picky when it came to details like clothing type and cape length...

Still, it must have been the right thing to say, as Robin beamed, and Vlad noticed how well the dark colours of the clothing blended with the strange purple light in his eyes, to be honest...it still weirded him out a little... "Sorry about...you know, by the way," he ventured to his friend, preening in front of a mirror... Robin whirled about fast, -in fact, faster than he should have been able to- to stare at him with an incredulous expression on his features, "Are you _kidding_ me? This is wonderful! I can stay with you, and your Dad won't try to eat me...thought it _would _be nice if he'd just bite me and be done with it..." he sighed longingly.

"Anyway, at least I get to be this, Blood-Bad-Dream thingy...and can do the stuff you and your family can, isn't it awesome?" he exhaled, ecstatically, grin growing broader with each word; then he stiffened and looked to the window, going paler than before. "V-Vlad?" his hand stretched out, looking like he was searching for an anchor to this world, Vlad snatched at it as Robin spoke again, "Vlad...we have to go...just, please, don't go out the front door when the explosions start, _promise me_!"

"Oh, but of course he will, and you too, Human!" intoned the Prince of Darkness from behind him, forcing both of them to turn and stare, "You have already broken the prophecy by telling us, and Ingrid is no longer here...join us now as we deceive the Slayers! You are almost the right height, maybe they will assume you are her...come, let us get ready! Renfield and Zoltan are awaiting their staged exit from the Kitchens..."

He whirled about and left both boys no more chance to do anything but follow...

~~~)0(~~~

She dumped the limp form on the garish blue stripes of his bed linen and pulled off his shoes before rolling him under the covers and sighing; what was it about this mortal that made her want to scream, laugh and cry all at once? She knew the answer, but she would never admit it...

Oh, but his pulse point looked so sweet, beating away there under his flesh, shimmering in the moonlight...maybe...maybe one little bite wouldn't- no! She can't think about that! Will was good boyfriend material, not food! She started as she found he gazed up at her and whispered, "So it's true...you are a Vampire... I had always thought it was true." He smiled and proffered his throat, "IS this what you want? Seriously, you can have it if you want...Ingrid, I love you..."

Tears of joy streamed down her face as she bent her fangs to his pale flesh...

~~~)0(~~~

"This is it, Jonno! We'll finally eliminate the pesky Dracula's from the world and when we bring your mother the dust in empty tissue boxes, then she'll see we're not crazy!" declared Mr Van Hellsing to an enthusiastically nodding Jonathan Van Hellsing. Who paused, frowned, and considered the real-world applications of what his father had just suggested...vaguely wondering how his mother would take to being presented with tissues boxes full of 'Vampire Dust'...

"Right, you light the fuses, and I'll go warm up the van...they're going to run pretty fast so I'll keep pace and you bring up the rear, got your stake?" he asked with the casual air of someone asking a child if they've packed a jumper, Jonno nodded. "Good, ready...? Then, light the fuses!"

He ran off into the darkness as the world exploded into fire and fury, and three dark, cloak-clad figures escaped from the castle doors...Jonathan went to give chase, but paused as the strangest sight he had ever seen greeted him...

Renfield and Zoltan had come from seemingly nowhere and were staring at him like he was the oddity...well, this day couldn't get any weirder...or could it? Did...did one of Ingrid's..._lady bumps_...fall out of her shirt?

**~~~)0(~~~******

**TBC...**

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><p>Hope you liked it, please Review, there are none as yet...:(<p>

Next Chapter: **"Chapter 6: Blood Oranges & Bras Beat Back Badguys..."**

**It's about to get awesome in here...**


	6. Chapter 6: Blood Oranges & Bras Beat Bac

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula or it's characters...or the show would be as awesome as this fic...^^**

**Here we go...prepare for disturbia...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: Blood Oranges &amp; Bras Beat Back Badguys...<strong>

**~)0(~**

_Well_, he thought as his legs pumped hard against the ground, feeling each and every bump in the hardening terrain, _that's torn it..._ Turning to say as much to his companions, he found they looked back with nothing short of amusement; _argh_, mind-reading...he'd forgotten about that useful little trick...

He shot a look of contempt at Vlad, "Next time...you be Ingrid..." he said in a low voice; his closest friend had to slow his pace to use one hand to muffle the snorts of laughter issuing from his mouth...if the Van Hellsings were to catch them laughing and joking whilst escaping, why, they'd never fall for it. This whole plan to avoid the prophecy or at least, break it into a million tiny pieces, and it hinged on their ability to 'play the role', as Count Dracula had so elegantly put it earlier...

Admittedly, he had been trying to coax Robin into one of Ingrid's bras at the time...so maybe he shouldn't have listened...then again, he couldn't _actually_ remember the part of the conversation where he'd agreed to go along with the idea...or putting the item of clothing on... Dammit! They must have hypnotised him again... He glared towards the Vampires and thought dark things in their general direction that would normally ensure his mother and/or father would be using the industrial-strength _bleach _(in lieu of soap) to wash out his mouth for...

Rather than be offended, the Count looked back with a strangely proud expression; Vlad snorted into his hand in pure amusement over the whole thing, but did not exactly refute the claim...besides, Robin looked rather good in a skirt...

~~~)0(~~~

His body was so still and cold, her own dead heart fluttered in fear..._was he...?_ She just about slapped herself for the sudden fit of stupidity, _of course_ he was dead! The question was...would he rise...?

~~~)0(~~~

With a loud, painful crunching sound -_like that of breaking bone_- the haggard old van stalled; anger clouded his senses for a moment, but a deep, calming breath helped to bring the world back into sharp focus. Kicking it wouldn't help, probably just break his foot...and any two-bit Vampire Hunting wannabe knows it's almost impossible to chase a Vampire through darkened, _dauntingly creepy woods at midnight _with an injured foot... He shook away the feeling of fear that was creeping up and over him, strangely seeming to cast questioning light upon his ingenious plan; as far as he, Van Hellsing -Vampire Hunter Extraordinaire- , was concerned...this could be the greatest plan in existence. Well, if you asked his _humble_ opinion...

Praying to whatever good was in the world, he turned the key again within the ignition to hear nothing but the dismaying sound of grinding gears; pausing to collect himself for another attempt, resting his head against the steering wheel and despairing...and then his heart hammered painfully within his chest. Eyes snapped open as his body went rigidly upright as if by electrical shock, Jonathan! He had to get this colossal bucket of bolts moving, and fast, his son was probably already chasing the Draculas through the pitch-black of the woodlands...

_C'mon, C'mon, C'mon!_ He mentally urged the van, revving the ignition again and again, pausing only once to flex his fingers inside the suddenly-restrictive leather gloves, then tried again...success! Finally, with a great roar equal to any self-respecting lion out there, the engine thrummed with mechanical life once again. Slamming his foot upon the accelerator, he didn't even have time to consider that maybe the reason the engine had failed was something less than a flaw, perhaps..._sabotage_...

As the Van screeched away into the night, a small trail of brake fluid dripped out upon the bitumen...

~~~)0(~~~

Images flashed through his mind as they neared the place of his nightmares...like _deja vu_, but worse because he could still feel the horror each potential death left him with; one image was particularly insistent... "Duck!" he cried out vaguely from where he froze, and was knocked to the ground by Vlad, they rolled away in the leaf-matter as an Ingrid-sized net narrowly whooshed past. Sailing harmlessly to the ground a few feet away, he turned to the other gratefully and panted, "Thanks...I forgot it got Ingrid first...it's just these images, they- _Cage_!" he yelled over Vlad's shoulder as the Vampire crouched to pull him upright and the metal contraption swung down to capture them. The Count wrenched it apart with little effort...

Another flash of memory, rain...? No, wait...it meant something- _oh no_...he leapt upright and began shoving the other two from under the spreading branches of the three nearest trees... "Get away from the trees! Quick, go past the pit two feet to your right...Vlad, _jump, dammit!_" The other blinked and did so, bypassing the trip wire that would have seen him impaled upon sharpened stakes secreted in the ground pit below... As if on cue, motion-sensors triggered the release of several liters of Holy Water from a hastily -though cleverly- rigged sprinkler system; tubes for conducting water and power ran up and down the trees nearby, winding about the branches like snakes, with release valves every few feet... Clever, but not clever enough.

Vlad and the Count simply stood and smirked just out of range, as he, Robin, was suddenly sodden to the core...also suddenly feeling very exposed as the white blouse under the dark cloak had gone rather transparent in the deluge... He shimmied up the nearest tree, mindful as always that he was still wearing a skirt, stockings and high, well-heeled boots of uncompromising leather...and shut off the small pump/generator that was fueling the whole operation. Simultaneously disconnecting the near-empty tanks of remaining water...

Two sets of red eyes flashed in excitement as his feet touched ground again, straightening the whole outfit, -_not easy when you consider one of the two key components to keeping him balanced was missing...made him feel all lop-sided, right? Bloody uncomfortable business, how did girls put up with it?_- and they stared at the ground with great meaning. Parched earth already began to quench it's long-denied thirst on the little water that had fallen, it seeped down into the dirt almost instantly, leaving it safe for the Draculas to flit to his side.

~~~)0(~~~

"Ah, I seem to recall something of how the next part goes...if you wouldn't mind standing over by that tree for a moment, _Ingrid_? For, we will soon be having-" he whirled about and grasped Jonathan about the throat, "-company...Why, hello there..." His fangs came out in a gruesome smile. The Vampire Hunter faltered. His stake was raised high, ready to bring down in the yielding, long-dead flesh of the Count and his expression was that of an animal caught in headlights; surprised and confused in one long momentary pause as events pieced themselves together in his suddenly fragmented mind...

"I -_uck_- c-can't...breathe..._V_-Vlad, _help_? _Ing_- wait..._you're not_-" he began as things came together, but was silenced as the Count increased his grip, and someone else screamed, "Release my son, _foul demon_!" At a signal from the Count, Robin disappeared within the shadows, the faintest glimpse of purple irises flashing from the depth of pitch-black night...Van Hellsing burst onto the scene with a rather melodramatic flair...

A crossbow gripped firmly in one hand, the other pointing a gloved hand at the Count as wind suddenly sprung up and whipped his coat tails about, the leather making strangely-heroic flapping noises as it did so... "Release him!" came the cry a second time, the weapon making a slight clicking sound as an small arrow was slipped into place; grinning maliciously, there was a slight click and then the Count released his grip, allowing Jonathan's limp form to fall to the leaf-strewn forest-floor. Breath caught within Van Hellsings throat, the heartbeat was so fast one could dance a Tango to it...his eyes strayed down and the posture relaxed minutely as the boy's chest rose and fell...

Then he struck.

In an instant he had pinned Vlad to a tree, by the throat -though that was no real bother, he didn't actually need to breathe anymore- and was grinning triumphantly, crossbow over the boy's heart; he turned a smug grin to the Count, "Oh, look at that...now I've got _your_ child, let's see how you like that! The Draculas will end tonight, Count, be sure of that!" he gloated, then seemed to pause and frown. An eerie voice called from the shadows, _"And if the dust is spilled at dawn, then blood will line the shores...save yourself from endless hell, ram a bolt right through your jaw...Van Hellsing, you must leave now or all is lost for you...leave the Vampires if you wish to live another day. Else your body be strewn in a blood-soaked heap upon the forest floor..._" There was a sharp intake of breath, then Robin re-appeared, fully clad in the sodden white blouse, easily-visible dark bra and matching black skirt, stockings and knee-high heels; reaching inside a lop-sided piece of his outfit, a questing hand found an item that could be considered useful in such a situation.

"Branaugh? What...What are you doing here? Quick, run now! They're Vampires, blood-sucking fiends, quick, I've got this one pinned!" yelled Mr Van Hellsing, pressing harder against Vlad's throat; the tree behind groaned, but Vlad giggled. In seemingly no hurry, the Count strode over to stand by the stirring form of Jonathan, "It is, I believe, a stalemate on your behalf, Slayer...I too have you child, would you risk his life for your ridiculous vendetta?" One pale hand caressed the darker boy's face as the Count looked up from where he'd suddenly knelt, fangs full on display and eyes as red as blood-rubies. Van Hellsing hesitated, noticing Robin failing to move he yelled again at him to move, then gave up, thinking him hypnotised...the boy merely smirked at him.

And then it hit him...literally.

~~~)0(~~~

"Think we fooled them, Renfield?" inquired the very excited and anxious stuffed wolf, Zoltan, of the disgusting man-servant of the Draculas...likewise, the creature looked back and smiled, "I think the Master will win, he doesn't like to loose...but that was a clever idea...so devious!" Zoltan preened at the praise and decided, "You know, it's cold out here, let's go back into the castle, let Master Robin, Master Vlad and his father play their games with the Slayers...we can wait by the fire."  
>Renfield waited a moment, then followed the stuffed creature back inside...<p>

~~~)0(~~~

Dark eyes flickered open, a deep red blossoming within and tears began anew down her cold, pale face; it was if the moon herself wept for joy, he lived...well, _un_lived, at any rate. It had worked! She was so uncertain... "I-Ingrid...? I...I feel different...is this how you feel? Cold and powerful?" Will asked, shifting about in his newly empowered -though dead- flesh, and grinned. "I- I kind of like it..." and then she threw herself on him and laughed as she cried tears of relief...it had worked, he was hers forever!

~~~)0(~~~

Vlad's throaty chuckle belied the small amount of fear he held back from the Slayer, but Robin saw it...felt it, knew it was there. So he took the only action he could...like some strange, evil doll he moved disjointedly from the shadows with his head on a slight inclination, long dark wig askew and a downright evil grin on his face, purple eyes flashing. Van Hellsing blinked and wondered at what strange, sick games these Draculas were up to...dressing a mortal up this way...and then choked in surprise as he was attacked...

Sports had never been his thing, but this once, the Blood Orange shot straight across the distance bridging them and hit the man side on, breaking the cheekbone with the force of his anger; Vlad slid free and moved over to stand by Robin as the Count reversed their previous positions by leaving the side of the almost-conscious Jonathan to pin Mr Van Hellsing to the tree. As the other had previously done so to Vlad... "Not having fun anymore, are we? How sad..." grinned the Count maliciously, "Too bad, party's just started..._Vlad_, _Ingr_- I mean, _Robin_, take little Jonathan and put him in that death trap this human dares to call a vehicle...we just need to have a little...adult talk for a moment." He flicked his fingers dismissively, though he belied the gesture by using his senses to track the pair as they moved away, carrying a limp boy between the two of them.

"Now, Mr Van Hellsing, it seems we need to come to a little agreement...you need to leave my family alone; all of them, understand? I don't recall ever wronging you personally, so I do not fully understand why you seem to embrace the chance to destroy another for the pure exhilaration of it all...I can swear to you I have not harmed a single person in this town since we arrived." declared the Count, nose in the air so he could look down upon the man he held above himself... Van Hellsing snorted, "Oh yeah? Then what do you call what you've done to Branaugh? If that's not 'harm' I don't know what is!" he retorted. The Count frowned, "Was he not a convincing Ingrid...? I knew we should have gone for the make-up, but it was enough of a struggle to convince him to put on the...uh...accoutrements of feminism. Just imagine trying to get make-up on that willful boy!" he laughed.

Suddenly, the Slayer stilled and ceased fighting, completely confused. "What?" he managed to say before the Count could go on, "Then...you haven't...?" Another voice broke the silence, "Hypnotised me? No...wait, do I have to go back to school?" Robin asked of the Count, as he and Vlad re-appeared through the treeline _sans_ Jonathan. The Prince of Darkness was most amused, "Of course not, Child, don't be silly...well, not the regular school...though if you want to read up on _our Lore_ then..." There was an ecstatic beam on his face already, and the Count just knew the boy would love nothing more than to rifle through the library and learn all there was to know about being a Vampire, sigh...if only Vlad showed such enthusiasm... Speaking of Vlad, he cut in, "Oh, don't worry sir, we put Jonathan in the Van, even buckled his seatbelt too...hate for anything to happen to such a good friend..."

Van Hellsing was growing more confused by the moment, "Wait, so...you're not hypnotised, you aren't going to kill me and did you put the right seatbelt on Jonathan?" He blinked, wondering why he'd even asked that...a chorus of '_Yes_'s came back to greet his ears [with the minimum of Red and Purple eye rolling] as the Count allowed him to sink down the trunk to the ground. It was then the Slayer seemed to notice fully, how the _eerie_ purple irises of the Branaugh boy's eyes flickered and followed him with strange knowledge...something was terribly wrong here... "So...you're letting me go?" he asked, "Just to clarify..."

"Of course, if you promise to leave my family alone...I believe, you may already be late for a witch-burning...?" questioned the Count, gazing at the moon at it's zenith in the sky; and his eyes flashed yellow before seemingly thinking better of it and continuing, "Well, go ahead...we have much business to attend to also...go!" He actually made shooing motions with his hands, and -with an exceptionally baleful glare- the Slayer began to stride away into the dark.

"That went well..." beamed Robin, to fill the silence, and Vlad just smiled, "Home?" he questioned of his father...the older Dracula looked to the pair and grabbed Robin, "Home..." Then he flitted away, clutching the human, with Vlad close on his metaphorical heels...

**~~~)0(~~~**

**TBC**

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><p><strong>Another Chapter Down, But Wait! There's More! (You should be afraid right about now...)<strong>

**Next Chapter: _Chapter 7 - Eat Garlic & Die...TGIF_**

**===========================REVIEW!^^========================**

~*SailorSilvanesti*~


	7. Chapter 7: Eat Garlic & DieTGIF

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula or any of it's characters...etc.**

**Revelations and Awesomeness...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: Eat Garlic &amp; Die...TGIF<strong>

**~)0(~**

Flames crackled high and flickered as the screams rose, two sets of excited Vampiric eyes watched the display with glee; Ingrid giggled as the Witch-girl in the middle cried out for mercy as her body burned at the center of the inferno, tied to a flimsy stake. "Can't be much of a real witch, or she would have gotten out of there by now," mentioned her newly re-born boyfriend, Will; his eyes were alight with something that resembled a child's curiosity and fascination. She laughed, "She was more than enough witch to slip that Love Potion into your drinks all night long, though," her tone was light, but there was a hint of hurt in there that his new senses detected...

"Hey, look, I'm sorry about that...I didn't know. She was a friend of a friend, someone's sister's cousin's pet witch or something, I was being polite and I didn't even notice who gave me my next drink. At least there's such a thing as Karma," he pointed out, watching as a handful of brown leather-clad Slayers circled the fire, decrying the evils of witchcraft, sorcery and the like...some die-hard was chanting out an exorcism...ah, mortals, very amusing on occasion... Agony-filled shrieks got louder now the fire rose higher and higher, Ingrid giggled, "Wonder what all those Slayers would say if they saw us just sitting here, watching the show...?" she asked.

"Probably invite us out for a barbecue and a stake or two," he laughed at his own bad pun; her eyes held his for a moment as her lips ghosted over his, "I forgive you, by the way...you kind of belong to me for eternity. I have to at some point..." she said in a hushed voice; he leant forwards to breathe the words, "And I couldn't think of a better way to spend my immortality, I love you Ingrid!" and their cold, dead lips pressed together as the last screams of the blonde, pony-tailed witch faded into the night along with the remaining Slayers...

~~~)0(~~~

He paced down the corridor and banged a fist on the solid metal wall, "I'm telling you Jonno, something's not right here...That Branaugh kid..." Jonathan snorted, "Dad, that Branaugh kid _is_ the thing that's not right; you've seen him! Loves to wear dark clothes and play 'Vampire' despite the fact we're all in High School and too old for Dress Up Games...he's just plain _weird_..." His smart-mouth tirade was held up by a leather hand over his face, as his father leant against the Secret Entrance and awaited the prompt...

"**Please give Voice Identification."**

"_Eat Garlic and Die!_" he hissed at the door, which whirred and popped open with an obliging 'click' and a **"Have a Nice Slay!"** as they strode into the Secret Slayer's bunker...Along three of the four walls, and indeed in many of the hidden rooms, were weapons and provisions for any emergency; but what they came for was found on the fourth wall...an absolutely huge computer screen took up three-quarters of the wall and was currently idling, showing a screen-saver where you were apparently hurtling through space, stars streaming by at lightspeed. Jonathan vaguely wondered why people paid good money to go into space when they could simply buy one of these monitors at a fraction of the cost and experience the same thing...

His father sat down regally, cracking his fingers and flexing them before entering his unique code into the Identification verification slot on screen and watching as his personalised slaying files and information came up; all dismissed with the click of a mouse. Scouring through programs all over the screen, for they near filled it, Jonathan called out, "This one! Here!" and pointed excitedly at a Program file entitled, "**Guess What?_: Slayers Edition. Electronic Knowledge-base of the Supernatural & How to Slay Them._**" Van Hellsing beamed with pride, "Good Job, Jonno!" and clicked the icon. An entire screen full of information lit up with the newest monsters and supernatural creatures found, and the best manners in which to slay them. He tried to skim-read, but eventually his eyes were drawn to the "Search" icon, and decided it would be a faster, more meticulous way to get the answers he needed...

His cursor flickered in the "**Search:**_" box for a moment as he floundered and typed in, "Purple Eyes, Affinity With Vampires, Strange Poetry, Wearing Drag" and pressed Enter...it flashed a moment before returning with a sad emoticon saying, "**I'm Sorry, We Have No Articles That Match. 0 Items Found.**" He decided to try again, erasing the most obvious mistake, and tried again...description sans the words 'Wearing Drag'...

"**Signatum Sanguine Prophetae: Blood Marked Prophet. 1 Article Found"**

He clicked with a pounding tempo rising in his ears, Jonathan leaned closer over his shoulder to read as he shrunk the page so neither of them would have to stand at the opposite end of the room to read out the information.

"**Signatum Sanguine Prophetae: Blood Marked Prophet – **_A rare occurrence, there have only been four or five confirmed cases in existence since the founding of the Slayers, or indeed, in any of the recorded Vampire Lore that has been confiscated/researched. A human closely linked with a __**Vampire**__, whilst not a Thrall or Blood-Slave, can begin to manifest powers seen as Supernatural to other mortals. The first signs are: __**Purple Eyes**__, Prophetic Nightmares about those around them, Supernatural warnings to others...this power/skill may manifest itself into __**strange**__ verses of __**poetry**__ or simply remain as story-like tellings of impending doom._

_Friendship or Love Based, their bond to the Vampire is strong and the pair usually mate for life AND/OR become empathically linked, more research is needed to ascertain whether this is indeed a telepathy-based skill or simply another unique power of these creatures..._

First Research on this Subject was conducted by Sir Gaddabout Whimsington the Fifth, Slayer First-Class and awarded the Platinum Stake in 1837 for his work on these Demi-Vampires and their Kin.

_It was discovered that physical torture of one can result in a reaction from the other, even at great distance...the Human subject was close to death by the end of the first day, but miraculously recovered to face further experiments. A regrettable use of humanity, but as it was rationalised during the debate on ethics regarding this case, the human had clearly defected -subconsciously or otherwise- to a side not of their own species. Therefore, it was deemed permissible to continue..._**See More On Sir Gaddabout Whimsington's Research...**"

Jonathan's breath hitched audibly in his throat as his father skipped over that bit, he knew it was for his benefit and that later, when he was not there, the older Van Hellsing would go back and read each and every gruesome detail of the experiments. He, personally, couldn't condone experimenting on a Vampire, much less a human...suddenly, he was sick of these Slayers and their twisted morality, but now was not the time to say it, his father scrolled down...

"_Distinctive by the Mark upon their foreheads, initially a small, dark black dagger dripping with brilliantly crimson blood over the left temple; as the powers grow within the Blood Marked Prophet, so will, too, the marking. Eventually, it will extend from left temple to above the left eye, a small crimson droplet of blood leaving a trail down past the eye and curving inwards on the cheekbone. As has been seen and documented in previous cases..._**See Documented History of Markings...**

_Whilst not as strong as a full Vampire, these Demi-Vampires may experience an increase in strength, speed, stamina, mental abilities and personal healing properties. Prophetic abilities also grow stronger with time and training, as has been proven...however, should they die, or the Vampire they are linked to be slain, the other will perish. All Prophetae feel an instinctive need to protect their counterpart and vice-versa; both are extremely difficult to kill, as, in addition to the above-mentioned abilities/'powers', the Prophetae have been known to manifest separate, distinctive powers, unique to each individual. There is no way to correctly preempt a Blood Marked One's personal powers without seeing them demonstrated; these will not manifest until they are strong enough in their other abilities...or have been turned. The ability to gauge the strength of a Prophetae was pioneered by _Lady Elizabeth Huntington-Walkersmythe, Slayer First-Class, in 1902 and was awarded the much-coveted Platinum Stake Award for her work with the captured Signatum Sanguine Prophetae. **Read More About Lady Elizabeth Huntington-Walkersmythe's Research...**

_Gauging a Signatum Sanguine Prophetae's Strength: The clarity of the Pupils is a significant sign, as is their mark; however, focusing specifically on the pupils... They take on a reflective, cat-like quality in the original stages, simply refracting vague purple light; as they gain in power, usually before, during or after a prophecy, their eyes become a transparent purple shade. Eventually, they will become a clouded purple and can be made temporary or permanent at the Prophetae's pleasure._

Weaknesses: It has been noted that these half-human creatures can still possess many of the Vampires' weaknesses: A distaste for Garlic, Crucifixes & Religious Icons -though they are still capable of crossing sacred ground or short periods of contact with Holy Water- and an aversion to natural Sunlight. Unique weaknesses have been noted also: Most Prophetae avoid large fires if possible, Opals have had draining effects upon some, Vampire Blood (a unique phobia, but it can be fatal for them in the early stages of their powers) and, strangely enough, stained glass. However this may be a flaw that stems from... **Read More On **_**Prophetae**_** Weaknesses...**

_In the early stages of Prophecy, it has been noted there is still enough humanity left within these Blood Marked Ones to potentially revert them from this path, as they have not yet consumed blood. It must be noted, however, that no successful reversion from Prophetae to Human has ever been completed and proven. These creatures are extremely rare and any sightings should be immediately reported to the Slayers Council IMMEDIATELY. _**For:**_ **Slayer Council Hotline for Prophetae Sightings Information, Click Here...**_"

Fumbling with the mobile in his pocket, Mr Van Hellsing hovered the mouse over the last link and clicked without hesitation; stabbing in the number shown with surprising urgency, heartbeat refusing to level out until the dial tone gave way to a panicked, though excited-sounding, "Hello? Agent Diggersby of the Slayer's Council _Signatum Sanguine Prophetae_ Division, have you found one?"

He smiled, he might as well just have made this kid's day...

~~~)0(~~~

"Ahah! Vladdy my lad, that was a magnificent way to end such a productive night, don't you think?" gloated Count Dracula, striding unheeded through the castle towards the Kitchen, where he sensed Renfield and Zoltan were residing by a large fire. Sure enough, loud yelling about lazy roach-creatures could be heard and Zoltan magically disappeared up the stairs in nothing short of a blink...as Renfield disappeared past through the open doors and back again because he'd forgotten why'd he'd run outside to start with.

"Feeling better?"he asked the other, pressed against the cool stones of the castle wall with his eyes closed; Robin nodded slightly, eyes still carefully closed and groaned quietly, "I am _never_ going to get used to 'sudden flitting' no matter how many times you do it to me..." a purple eyes flashed in a tiny slit then disappeared again, "Urgggh, nope, still two of you...give me a minute..." He sank down to sit on the floor, back to the wall; Vlad slid down to sit beside him. He knew how Robin felt...no, literally, he _knew_ how the other felt...and right now there was a...sensation of guilt? Also a lot of dizziness and self-loathing...

"Vlad, I'm...I'm sorry you had to...you know, I should have warned you earlier, we -or you- could have left the castle and not had to...you know... I know you didn't want to go through the Blood Mirror." He leant over, a groping hand finally finding the cold shoulder to comfort, but Vlad smiled, "No, it's...it's alright Robin...it was going to happen at some point anyway, tonight was just so important I chose to do it sooner rather than later. I just wish my reflection hadn't looked so damn smug...like it knew...but I suppose it did; it, was kind of scared too, like it knew something was wrong and that's why I relented to the whole merging thing." He patted Robin's hand to let him know he got the sentiment, actually, it was weird to think that the heat radiating from his friend would never again come from his own body. He didn't _feel _cold...

"Probably because I don't feel hot, either. It's just your new normal temperature, like this is mine..." answered Robin, eyes shut and unaware he hadn't actually spoken aloud. Now he was, two purple eyes blinked open and focused on his face, "I did what now? No, forget it...I'm tired, have I mentioned it's cold, recently?" There were still hours till dawn, few, but there...and even Vlad felt the need to just close his eyes and rest, right there, so he decided to do so...Robin nudged him and mumbled, "Can't sleep here, mate...there's cracks in that door that'll let the sun in come morning...you'd be a Vampire-kabob..."

He pushed himself upright, followed swiftly by Robin...and then Ingrid burst in, a whirlwind of emotions all vying for top place, dragging a very pale Will... Vlad looked to her with horror, "You didn't..." She smiled evilly, "Oh, but I did!" and Will pulled down his shirt-collar to show off the healing fang-marks... Robin's purple eyes lit up, "Awesome!" he breathed. Vlad sensed another, 'Why won't you turn me?' argument was going to impede any sleep for that day...

Robin glared at him as Ingrid and Will swept critical eyes up his form...and outfit. "Vlad, do you really think I'm so damn shallow I'd forsake precious hours of sleep for the chance to play the '_Please_? ...NO!' Game with you?" The young vampire felt anger rising off the other like mist in the morning, surrounding him...he quirked an eyebrow and said, "That was old me...this version is...open to new ideas..."

Ingrid chocked a moment, and not just because Robin was wearing her favourite knee-high stilettos, "Please tell me that didn't mean what I think it meant, baby brother, that was just- _ew_...I can't even look at you anymore! And you, Branaugh! Why are you wearing my clothes? I mean, I get the shirt, the skirt and the shoes...I can even see the need for stockings but...why my bra? More importantly, what on Earth did you stuff it with?" She didn't leave a pause in her tirade for anyone to say anything until right at the end when Robin simply stared at her and replied, "Impersonating you. Van Hellsings. Stuff...and I shoved Blood Oranges in here, couldn't find anything else that was the right shape...and uh, why is Will looking at me like that...? Wait...why are _you_ looking at me like that...?"

He was downright terrified by the lecherously appreciative glances of approval he was getting and tried to cover his legs with the short skirt; the pair smiled, and made twin "Awww..."s of disappointment, before dancing off to tell Father what she'd done...Will paused and stared hard at Robin, completely ignoring the fact he was wearing ladies clothes -Ingrid's, to be exact- and said, "Mate, were your eyes...were they always that purple?" Vlad glanced at Robin, Robin glanced at Vlad; both rolled their eyes... "It's a long story...tell you later?"

The air was rent by a loud, "WHAT?" and tiny flitting whizzes, then Ingrid and the Count were standing in the center of the room and staring at Will, who smiled -fangs on display- and waved. There was a loud humming noises as the Count strode over and examined the boy, and finally pronounced, "A fine addition, it seems there is something you can do right, Ingrid. Good Choice...you may have one of the spare coffins from the Crypt for tonight, we will simply order another one from the council. Delivery by tomorrow night, I hear...wait, I hear something coming in..." and he was gone. "So...gonna tell me what's up with the eyes?" asked Will, to fill the silence and curious as hell. The boys looked to each other, then Robin began to talk...

~~~)0(~~~

As the reverberating sound of the Empty Line echoed from the mobile's speakers, Van Hellsing spun around in the chair with a triumphant look on his features; Jonathan, who'd been waiting for this moment, straightened and looked vaguely interested as his father announced, "Jonno, WE -the council and I- have a Plan..."

~~~)0(~~~

Striding back into the room with a wide-eyed look of surprise and excitement, he rounded on the inhabitants of the room, "First of all, go to your Coffins! Robin, Renfield put one in Vlad's room for you and Will, there's one in Ingrid's room for you; Secondly...I have received a message from the council...this concerns you and Vlad, Robin. Do I have a Surprise for you!"

Robin was uncertain as to whether to be terrified or excited...could you be both...?

**~~~)0(~~~**

**TBC...**

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><p><strong>Oooh, I've almost finished the next Chapter...wait until you read it!^^<br>**

**PLEASE REVIEW!^^**

**Next Chapter:** **_Chapter 8: Brainwashing - Rinse, Lather, Repeat..._**


	8. Chapter 8: Brainwashing  Rinse, Lather,

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula or any of the characters...**

**Warning: Strap yourselves in, this is hitting the interesting part of the ride...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8: Brainwashing – Rinse, Lather, Repeat...<strong>

**~)0(~**

There was a rapping sound upon the door; the Count turned in his coffin and muttered about the rudeness of mortals and their peculiar hours of operation..._why on earth _would they be knocking and disturbing his sleep at this ungodly hour of daylight? His eyes narrowed; still, he heard Renfield tapping cautiously on the lid of his coffin and sighed in an exaggerated manner, throwing back the lid and slamming it deliberately into the head of his foul-smelling manservant. "This had better be important, who is it and why should I care?" he asked succinctly.

"Master, it's the, uh, the Blood-Human-Thingy's parents and they want their son back...right this instant. School or something..." Renfield said in a rush and ducked out of the way; Count Dracula was out of his coffin in under an instant, "Very well then, _breathers_," he muttered distastefully. Pasting a smile all over his features as he approached the front doors, thankfully shutting out any potentially lethal sunlight...Mr and Mrs Branaugh stood in attendance at the door, from the squabbling outside, they had brought the rest of their brood too...

"How may I help you two fine people this day? I apologise, I was sleeping...seem to have caught a cold," he said cheerfully, punctuating his words with theatrical little coughs on occasion when the fancy took him to. "Oh, you poor thing," said Mrs Branaugh taking the bait, "We're so sorry to disturb you, but we're missing a child...would you happen to have him here? I know he likes to come up here quite a lot but I truly can't think of a single reason he'd be possessed to come up here in the dead of night...quite out of character." Mr Branaugh nodded also. The Count decided upon a course of action and settled with it, his eyes flashed yellow and caught the mortals...

"_Your son is home, unwell, in his room. At no point will you go near him, you will think you have and you will tell that blasted school in no uncertain terms that he will not be returning...you will not even think of your son -bar the occasional thought as to his welfare, though you will remember nothing but that he is ill- until I tell you to. Now, please send those children of yours inside..._" His eyes flickered back to the normal dark colour and the mortals blinked, "Oh, so sorry to have disturbed you, I just remembered...he's ill in bed...Come on dearest, let us go and grab our brood!" smiled Mr Branaugh. They sauntered outside, spoke a moment, and in came Chloe, followed swiftly by the insufferable twins, Paul and Ian. Again, he repeated his words, only submitting 'brother' where he had previously said 'son' and was pleasantly surprised at the lack of resistance.

"Right, now, _Goodbye_!" he called as they trundled out to get in that noisy monstrosity they used to cart the entire Branaugh Brood about...maybe now he could get some sleep; the previous few hours had not gone as intended...

He had received an important telegraph (via Bat-Messenger) from the Council, in regards to their actually having a living Blood-Marked One and how to deal with his emerging powers; technically it was...what could be considered as a form of a "_Care & Feeding of..._" style publication. There was one phrase continuously underlined: The _Signatum Sanguine Prophetae _**MUST** be turned by the one he/she has Bonded to... The boy, Robin, had looked ecstatic, the Count always knew he'd longed to be bitten and nearly relented and done so for the sad-eyed breather on many occasions...though now it showed he was right to ignore that urge... the problem, in short, was Vlad.

Ah, but there was time to deal with such things in the future...he knew Robin would spend every hour of the long nights he woke to, begging; and eventually, his son would relent and bite him...it was inevitable. Speaking of such things...he flitted up the stairs to the room where both were sleeping; Vlad's coffin lid was fully closed, but the lid of the old one Robin was using appeared to have slid across in the day and a small patch of sunlight was beginning to turn a patch of pale skin on his arm a fiery red right before the Count's eyes. Robin hissed awake and leapt from the coffin with inhuman speed, slamming shut the fraction of offendingly out of place curtain...the patch was a bright red now and looked fiercely uncomfortable. "Wh-what? I'm not..."

"Not yet, but you are close...and this is a weakness we all share. I shall have to make certain your new cloak has a hood...I simply came to let you know, your parents are under the impression you are in your room, ill. They will not remember to do anything that might make them realise you are not actually there, unless I instruct them to, so try and stay away from their sight, alright?" he informed, Robin merely nodding in agreement. A thought struck the Count, "Actually, you and Vlad can go down to your old house tonight and take anything you are particularly attached to, it will give you both a chance to try out these new abilities..." then he winked, "and don't worry, he'll bite you soon. Trust me...but I should caution you, there is a time-limit...sadly, it is rather like werewolf law, but you will forgive it, I am sure. Before the Second High Moon of the Marked One's new life, he or she must be turned to save their lives...or you will die."

Turning away, to hide the slow smile that crept up his features, the Count paused in the doorway and listened for an instant, then, assured his son was awake and listening -he still continued to breath when he was worried, ah well, he'd grow out of it in a century or so- to the...ahem, _amended truth_ he'd just told the other boy. Satisfied he had just resolved the whole situation, he strode from the room...

~~~)0(~~~

"Mmmmm..._snrrrrrrr_-urgh!" There was a loud _Thump_ and Will fell out of his coffin... Raising the lid of her own the tiniest of fractions, Ingrid peered out, tired and vaguely amused at his antics, "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded with affection of the bewildered Vampire on the cold flagstones of the floor. His expression was most comical, surprise and confusion all in one convenient look of astonishment; his eyes turned to meet hers, "I...have no idea what just happened...one minute, I was asleep...the next, _BAM_ I'm kissing the floor..."

There was no light in the room, heavy drapes occluding the sun outside from streaming in, and Ingrid flung her coffin lid open, "You were probably just sleep-levitating, it happens for a while after you become a full Vampire. You just have to live with it, now get back in your coffin and go to sleep...it's the middle of the day!" she smiled, turned over and slammed the lid of her coffin shut against the world. Half-asleep, the echoing thunk of the room's other occupant sealing his coffin shut against the world was offset by the sound of a certain someone wiggling about in the search of the perfect spot within it.

_Ah, Will could be amusing when he wanted to be..._she thought as she fell back to sleep.

~~~)0(~~~

"I don't like it." he stated firmly, glaring balefully at his Vampire-crazed father, it was like his morality switch had been shut off all of a sudden; the plan was both simple, highly-illegal and definitely involved him far too much for his liking. "Oh, come on Jonno, imagine if you can save him! That would be a real feather in your cap, wouldn't it?" beamed Van Hellsing, while Jonathan continued to glare; vaguely wondering how his dad would take it if he voiced aloud that he had recently decided he didn't actually _want_ to continue the 'Family Business'. Maybe he just wasn't cut out for slaying...or maybe it was the strange light that entered his father's eyes, like he was possessed, everytime he sighted someone he thought were the Living Dead...

"No. Seriously Dad! Listen to me for once in your life, NO!" he started to yell, his voice echoing off the subterranean bunker of the Secret Slayer's Hideout; fists clenching into angry balls at his side. What if they failed? He'd heard the outline of the plan, and he didn't like it one bit...not at all...it was bad enough they'd been caught in that damn forest chasing the Draculas all night when he could have been rescuing his then-girlfriend, Katie, from burning alive...he'd loved her, but when his father had found out what she could do, what she was, he'd denounced her to the council. Putting his 'infatuation' down to some cock-a-meme Love Potion, and only his own heartfelt, logical arguments had stayed their immediate execution orders; _She could be useful, help us against the Draculas_, he'd argued. They had listened; or he thought they had...it was a lie. Beautiful Katie with the golden hair and sweet smile had been betrayed, after she failed in her task they killed her, like they'd been planning to all along...and he hadn't been there to save her. God he hated his father right now...no wonder he'd wanted to go after the Draculas that night, anything to keep him from a potentially suicidal rescue of a known Witch and the 'shame' it would bring to their family...

If it killed him, he would _never_ become a Slayer..._NEVER_! But for now, he'd play the game, for Katie...and wait for an opportunity to betray this man he loathed so much. He could have kept silent, she never hurt anyone, healing the sick unbeknownst to anyone else; she'd even felt guilty about the whole 'Love Potion' scheme the Council had bade her go along with. Probably threatened his life so she'd go along with it too, why was this world full of such awful people?

He blinked, his father had been going on and on about something he'd found in the databases, like he cared...but maybe... A devious plan began to form in his mind... "Sorry Dad, zoned out, what?" he asked, sounding as subservient as possible; his father looked at him with disapproval and clapped him on the arm, "Jonno, what have I _told you_? A Slayer must _always_ be focused and ready! Alright, I can see you're tired but we have to be fully alert, the Slayer's Council has left this up to us...if we can turn him back it will be the first time in history...imagine that! Our names down in Slayer History, probably get awarded the coveted Platinum Stake, and the rank of Slayers First-Class!"

The eyes glazed over for a moment, snapping sharply back into focus again, "But you do know what will happen if we fail...right Jonno? None of this 'he's my friend' business, no more covering for the evil-doers of this world, the supernatural must be defeated!" The vague reference to Katie stung, but he forced himself to nod and hoped the way he clenched his taut jaw would be taken as a sign of determination, not the hatred welling up in his heart. "Right, now...there's a few small bedrooms off this main room and a bathroom, I'll shower first, then you and we'll both catch some sleep until tonight, right?" smiled his father, clapping him on the shoulder and moving away.

Jonathan couldn't help but hope his gaze would bore holes in the man's back...

~~~)0(~~~

"V-Vlad...you awake?" breathed a voice from across the room, uncertain and seemingly a mixture of fear and excitement; he rolled over and upright, ducking instinctively as the coffin lid fell open, in case of stray beams of sunlight... Robin was sitting cross-legged on the top of his coffin, gazing at the door, cape-less back to him. "Yeah...hey, what's wrong, Robin?" he answered, concerned, this was strange behaviour...even for a breather who liked running about in dark clothes and capes -even before he'd met Vlad and his crazy family. Standing silently, the other turned around to face him, eyes seemingly normal again in the gloom, "I...did you hear- just...forget it, it's nothing..." Gnawing fear echoed off the other in waves...

Vlad felt suddenly cold, not for himself, but for the other in the room, as he had no true temperature of his own; he had heard, as he knew his father had intended him to, and his chest constricted with fear. Any mortal would be hyperventilating right about now, but not he...he was calm, sure, panicking slightly, but sure... "Robin, I- I won't let you die...you know that, right?" he said cautiously, rising to hop out of his coffin, a pale smile lit the taller boy's features. "I know, but I don't want you to have to do something you don't want to, it wouldn't be fair...I'd just ask your father or Ingrid if I could...but apparently I can't."

He turned fully to stare at Vlad then, and Vlad sucked in a breath as the horrifying red of the worst kind of sunburn could be clearly seen between shoulder and elbow in a patch on Robin's right arm, "Wh- When did _that_ happen?" he exclaimed, incredulous, "I know you're fair, but that's ridiculous!" Robin began to laugh, "Well, my coffin lid moved during the day, right, didn't it? Ended up with a nasty case of 'being fried like bacon', I did...I don't recommend it much. If you're wondering!" and laughed again.

Extending the left arm, for it seemed the right was a tad painful, he pointed to the concealed window, "Curtain was ajar a bit, no problem...you should have seen me when I came back from a beach holiday at Second Cousin Maz's place, he lives in Australia, right, and doesn't believe in sunblock. I couldn't _move_ for weeks...just floated in the tub in my bathers...looking like a giant red tomato..." He shuddered, "Yeah, never doing that again...always burned like a roast chicken, but...I was only in the sun for a moment... Count says it's a normal reaction, and my folks -came knocking earlier- have been hypnotised into believing I'm just in my room...even Chloe and the Twins, so we can't be seen. Only good news, we don't have to go to school anymore!"

There was a momentary pause, then he grinned too...life without Mr Van Hellsing was definitely a plus...he vaguely wondered what kind of lie his father would concoct about why he wasn't receiving an education any more, but decided he didn't really care. "I'd high-five you, but it's...well, it's the middle of the day and I'm kind of tired...back to bed? Uh, Coffin?" he suggested, stepping back into his own -a sleek little model that Robin had been eyeing appreciatively all night long- and sliding down.

"Suppose so, see you in the evening!" grinned Robin, getting into the swing of Vampire timing with great enthusiasm and sliding into his own coffin...but not before giving a baleful glare at the curtain. It was closed, definitely. No light strayed in, he was safe; so, he slid the lid of the coffin into place -it was one of those old, classic models without hinges- and settled down till he was comfortable. Vlad listened on with amusement as he heard his friend find the 'warm spot' as he'd termed it, and his breathing began to even out.

He vaguely wished he, himself, could still breath properly...as more than a reflex, more than just a novelty to amuse himself...he would miss it most. For now, however, as he reached up to close the lid, he paused, looking right at Robin's coffin...lowering the lid till he could see nothing but a small slit of the outside world and hear nothing but the gentle pounding rhythm of the other's heartbeat... "_I won't let you die, Robin...I promise..._" he whispered and blocked out the world with a thin layer of ornately carved wood and silk.

~~~)0(~~~

"Dad, are you sure about this?" hissed Jonathan from his side, he sighed softly and turned to face his son, "Jonno, we've been through this...the plan is fool-proof and Council-approved, it's perfect. So yes, I'm sure. We're doing this...got it?" The teen huffed out a breath into the cooling air, he was probably just nervous, he rationalised; or it might be lingering influence from that Witch-girl, thank goodness the Council had seen her burnt...she was getting to be a bad influence on Jonathan! He paused, recalling the look of utter betrayal on his son's face that day and shook his head, no...must have been a spell or some form of potion...Love Potion, the Council had said... No time to think on that now, though, time to go...

The world was softly changing from the vibrant reds and oranges of sunset to the soft purples and blues of twilight; the sky showing off miles of dark expanse studded with brilliant shining stars, a full moon peered over the opposite horizon...as if to catch a glimpse of it's opposite before the sun was completely gone from the world. A good night for hunting...and their prey would be here shortly... He was certain of it.

~~~)0(~~~

Stealthily, leaping through the darkness and semi-flitting -as Vlad had taken to calling this new speed Robin had gained- down the hill, the pair of teens were having quite a load of fun; they pulled up beside the Branaugh house and semi-flitted about the side. There were still lights on and bustling activity in the building, Robin grinned as he heard his mother begin a sentence about bringing him a bowl of chicken soup and then fading to a vague comment about flowers that the rest of the family picked up upon immediately...the Count was pretty good at what he did.

Strangely, he felt no anguish about how easily he was forgotten, it had always been like that anyway, who needed an artist in the family already crowded with a child genius and two sports stars? Vlad patted his shoulder kindly, smiling as he caught the stray thought, "You're part of _this_ family now..." he said quietly, Robin reciprocated the grin, "I know...and it's better than I ever imagined...to the tree?" he asked.

Climbing the tree was no real effort, easier than ever before, in his opinion and a tad exhilarating; it only took a split-second before they were on the large, thick branch level with his bedroom window, still as disorganised from the previous night's frantic departure. Sheets were strewn from where they barely held onto the bed, all the way to the door in twisted heaps, one corner was even jammed in the door... "That was some exit," laughed Vlad, amused as he imagined the whole thing. "You might think it's funny now, but I was too busy panicking...I thought you were dead!"

"Well...you were half right," Vlad shrugged and tried his level best to keep his face void of emotion, before cracking and nearly falling out of the tree laughing so hard his ribs hurt; when his body was again balanced on the branch, Robin punched him in the arm, "You can be a right prat, you now that, right?" he jested and grinned before shuffling forwards and jiggling at the window. "Damn..." he cursed under his breath, Vlad frowned, "What...locked? What have I told you about leaving your window open at night...how else am I supposed to visit you? Well, you know...back when we made those plans, now all I have to do is poke my head out of my coffin and yell at you!"

There was minor sniggering, but a warm body moved out of the way so a Vampiric one could carefully wedge his fingers into the cracks and proceed to break the inner latch with his enhanced strength. "Mam's not gonna like that..." winced Robin as they slipped inside the room, "Right...I'll take down the pictures from the walls and you can grab my stash of comics and take it to the cas-" there was a black blur...then Vlad reappeared, "-tle, or, maybe you could help me grab some clothes. You really need to warn me, that's right freaky, that is!" He received a baleful glare, but moved to a wall and began to carefully remove each and every artwork he'd pinned up there; each by his own hand on many a sleepless night.

A box had appeared by his side at some point, and he placed the pictures, sketches and paintings carefully inside; finally closing the lid and taping it down so nothing blew out in transport...he turned to find an almost-bare room, nothing but the sheets on the floor and furniture looked back. Everything else was gone...Vlad stood waiting in a patch of moonlight, hands outstretched for the box of his paintings, they slipped out the window and sat on the branch; Robin simply stared at the room he had lived almost his entire life -literally, it used to be the nursery...- and felt a tingle of sadness and fond nostalgia. Giving an understanding clap on the back, Vlad looked directly at him and said, "I...look, I'll take this to the castle and be right back...you can stay here for as long as you like, okay?" he knew it would be painful on some level...

Robin nodded slowly, and Vlad flitted away; he sighed deeply, climbing down from the tree to rest against it and simply stare at what he'd always known as home. There was a low murmur of voices and arguments spilling from an open window 'round the other side of the house; Paul and Ian obviously wanted to stay up and watch the footy being telecast from Australia, but their parents were having none of it. He froze. Strange, how he had not thought '_his_' parents...but maybe that was just it, they weren't any longer, couldn't be...at least he scored an awesome Vampire Dad out of all this...

There was a snap...his heart thrummed painfully against his ribcage, he knew if it had been Vlad, he would have sensed the emotions long before this; whatever it was felt wrong, no, two somethings...and then it hit him, literally... He was wrapped tight in some form of net, completely immobilized, and...suddenly he felt very tired...weak, like he'd had a terrible cold. There were voices, a gruff achingly familiar one called out, "Just shove it on him, quick, in case he breaks free!"

Oh God, he was captured...by the Van Hellsings! As the world began to blur he heard someone scream his name in the darkness... "ROBIN!"

**~~~)0(~~~**

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><p><strong>TBC...<strong>

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><p><strong>Wow, getting to the awesome bit, hang out for the next Chapter (only just now writing...)<strong>

**+_Chapter 9: Two Vampires Walk into a Church...Stop me if you've heard it before..._**

**_..::+++Out of curiosity, is anyone _ACTUALLY READING_ this story, or am I technically writing it for myself...I only have 2 Reviews...and was wondering..._**

**_~*SailorSilvanesti*~_**


	9. Chapter 9: Two Vampires Walk into a Chur

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula or any of the characters...except Katie, I totally own her butt, mainly 'cause I made her...Nice touch, right?**

**This Chapter is dedicated to my most avid reader and Reviewer, _L.J._ thanks for reading!^^**

**+++And now, prepare yourselves...+++**

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: Two Vampires Walk into a Church...Stop me if you've heard it before...<strong>

**~)0(~**

A strategic strike, by the time he'd flitted there, Robin had been hoisted over a broad shoulder and dragged away in a net of shimmering lights...in anger and a sick sort of fear, he punched the same tree they'd been sitting in barely moments before. With a loud, groaning crack, it pitched forwards and slammed through Robin's bedroom...

He was too numb to even care what Robin's mam would think of that little lot...and flitted quickly back to the castle faster than ever before, urgency dogging his every step...the echo of his pained cry only just fading into the night...

~~~)0(~~~

"Think we should take him some toast, love?" asked Mr Branaugh of his wife as she bustled about the Kitchen serving breakfast to their squabbling bunch, she paused to look at him with the most peculiar expression of confusion on her face, "Who...dear?" He blinked, the train of thought as elusive as trying to skewer jelly on a chopstick, "I...don't know dear...I-...huh! Did you know that there are twenty-seven garden gnomes in the garage?" he asked suddenly. Which brought the attention of the entire Branaugh Brood on him, "Really dad?" asked an exceptionally interested Chloe... In the chaos of their debate about the aesthetic advantages of owning a garden gnome [then multiplied by a factor of twenty-seven], the elusive name of the son they no longer had slipped from all thought...

~~~)0(~~~

His heart hammered. This was wrong, no Ifs, Buts, Ands or Ors about it. Just plain wrong. He voiced his opinion, and was hurriedly hushed by the madman wearing his father's flesh; this person was busy adjusting the giant Opal necklace about the unconscious boy's neck. The opal-flecked net was wrapped neatly to the side of the chair Robin was tied to, bound hand and ankle with thick ropes greased with garlic. Personally, Jonathan hated the smell of it all, and could understand why Vampires generally avoided the stuff, it smelt like something several days dead in full-sunshine!

Something gleamed in the small stream of moonlight that was peering through a clear window, and a loud crunching thunk could be heard, what-? Oh...this was not happening! His father was _taking an axe_ to the first few rows of _pews_! Wasn't this a cardinal sin? It sure as hell felt like it!

~~~)0(~~~

Groaning softly at the excess of noise on his suddenly-sensitive ears, he rolled his head back and tried to remove the crick that had formed from his chin lightly resting on his chest for so long...only then did it come to him to freeze in fear. Where was he?

Cautiously he looked up, noting without even trying that he was bound firmly but not painfully to a chair, and that there was a ridiculously large fire blazing in a merry semi-circle behind him...it crackled and waved in a friendly manner in his peripheral vision. Strangely, the heat brought no comfort, just a strange sense of ear and dread that settled like a stone in his quivering stomach...purple eyes flickered upwards, following the contours of the room. It was a building, actually...he recognized it from that one time his mother had forced them all to come for Christmas mass.

He snorted softly as he remembered how well that had ended...a Christmas tree alight, the twins chasing each other and using two of the waist-high 'wise men' as swords and Chloe crying, -for that's what toddlers do best-, the entire way through her part in the nativity play. A willing Baby Jesus, she was not...it still made him smile. Of course, he was naturally invisible, hidden behind everyone else in the chaos...his smile slipped and he looked up again...the first few rows of pews looked to have been demolished by a rather angry bear... His eyes strayed past the chaos, briefly noting the way the pendant about his neck sparkled and shimmered with an almost evil gleam...and, horror of horrors, his eyes flickered up to gaze at the beautifully multicoloured monstrosities that were the stained glass windows lining the long hall from both sides and shuddered in pure terror. The logical part of his mind was debating with the frightened part that it was completely ridiculous to be afraid of coloured glass...but the rest of his mind wasn't listening at all...

A self important clearing of the throat could be heard, his eyes strayed from the winking panes of coloured glass to his left with a quick flicker, his heart began to race and he prayed -however irrationally- that at least one of the Draculas could simply follow the pounding sound straight back to him... Van Hellsing was arguing with his son, but straightened and beamed, "Ah, you're awake! Nice to see you again, Robin...trust me, you'll thank us for this..." Ignoring the protest of, "Dad, you _can't_ use that on him!" from Jonathan, Van Hellsing hefted a large metal bucket and doused him in a cool, clear liquid...

Robin blinked, "Uh, okay...look, thanks, I mean, I _was_ thirsty but in the _twenty-first century_ we have this really awesome invention called a _Glass_, and I'm not sure if you've heard of it_ but_- " and then he began to scream...

~~~)0(~~~

He began to scream, high and long, the sound echoed about the walls and sent everyone within scurrying to help; Ingrid flitted down the stairs to find her father clutching Vlad, paler than death -well, duh...- and lying on the floor with his eyes clenched shut and white-knuckled fists pressed hard into his temples... "What happened?" she demanded of her father, Will appeared by her side and simply gaped. "I'm...I'm actually not sure...one minute he was babbling about- oh..." the pieces of some puzzle appeared to come together in his mind and suddenly the Count looked very grave indeed.

"Apparently, on a training exercise in stealth," he omitted out the part where she actually _knew_ about the technical raid on the former-_Breather_'s old home, "when it seems Robin was ambushed by the Van Hellsings, he was just telling me about the shining net they trapped him with, when...well, this happened..." Vlad had screamed once more, then fallen silent and limp; Ingrid bit her bottom lip, no matter how she'd planned to kill him, or expressed her distaste for his position...she found she actually did care about her baby brother. "Alright, so the Slayers have him...how do we get him back and most importantly, where would they take him?"

"Uh...Master...? We may be able to help you with that..." came the voice of Zoltan, a cringing Renfield following just behind. The Count was in no mood to play games, "Well, spit it out, where do you think they would take him?" he demanded; Renfield ran for it but Zoltan stood his ground, "I cannot tell you where, master, but I can tell you how to find them...it will not be far, I promise you..." All eyes in the room strayed back to the stirring form of Vlad... "Alright," decided the Count, hefting his son up, "Let's go..."

~~~)0(~~~

Tiny, oily trickles and splashes lined perfectly between the marks of two tire-treads on the soft, earthy ground just feet from the tree where they had both sat not a half-hour ago; he scented the wind, murderous intent glistening in his eyes. Only just recovered from the recent, sudden agony of whatever that had been, Vlad would like nothing more than to rip out Van Hellsing's heart and feed it to him, piece by piece...but he knew that was of little concern, they had to find Robin. Thankfully, Zoltan had bade Renfield sneak out and slash the brake line whilst Mr Van Hellsing had been distracted instructing his son on how best to light the fuses, before the ambush. Now a clear, oily trail led the way to where his best friend was being held and tortured...he kept getting flashes of fear and an irrational hatred of the fear...and an immense tiredness. He said so to his father as the four of them prepared to flit along the road, following the fluid breadcrumb trail.

"Vladdy my lad, from what you have said, it sounds as if they are using opals against him; the booklet said there was some property or other about the gemstone that could sap the power from a Blood-Marked One while they still lived. No reports of afterwards, but I assume the Van Hellsings have the same information... As for the irrational fear and loathing, there is one explanation, but it's far too fanciful to just throw out there, though it does give me an idea to where we are heading...now, no more talk, come!" He yelled and flitted away. Ingrid and Will close behind; Vlad set his jaw determinedly and then followed...

~~~)0(~~~

Shiny mosaics of beautiful designs were brought too close into his personal sphere and he flinched in fear, clenching his mouth closed so as not to cry out, he closed his eyes and simply allowed a wave of tiredness to crash over him. Drowning him in the sensation...then he was being drowned for real! Again the acidic feel of the water brushed over his body and he heard someone reciting something out of the Bible...what was this? Wait...it couldn't be...Holy Water, could it?

"Dad, enough! Seriously, this isn't working, just leave him alone!" a voice rose in anger, there was a pause as a book snapped shut and leather creaked as determined steps strode over to someone else, "Now you listen here, Jonathan, we are so close to being named heroes in Slayer History, and I will not have you ruining our chances with your bleeding heart nonsense!" The voice yelled, it echoed through the building and he squinted to see Jonathan clench his fists, "You never listen to me! Not about this, not about-...about Katie! It's all because you're such a damn failure at hunting, isn't it? Got to compensate, don't you?"

A full-fledged argument had been brewing in the boy for a long time now, Robin had sensed it, and finally the dam broke...who was Katie...? Oh...his mind was filled with images of the beautiful blonde who'd been hesitantly slipping Love Potion into Will's drinks that night, oh...he'd missed the furtive glances to an outside observer who continuously fingered a pistol... An innocent...but more to Jonathan, he could feel it from here. "Oh, so that's what this insubordination is all about! That silly little Witch of yours, look Jonno, I don't know how to say this gently so I'll just say it... She was a witch. You were under her spell. She had her chance, and when she failed, she got what was coming to her!"

Jonathan threw his hands in the air, "See! There you go again, you are a self-righteous bastard! You know what? I knew she was a witch from the beginning and I didn't care, not one bit...it wasn't a love potion, Dad, she was my _girlfriend_! We were going to get married after we graduated, but no, she thought you needed a little help to find peace with your Slayer side and -no matter how I cautioned her against it- she told you of her powers. What did you do? You told the Council like a good little watchdog and got a good pat on your _bald_ head while she burnt alive, screaming for me! You can't do this, but you will and I will have no part of it!" yelled the teen and stormed off. Van Hellsing shook his head and muttered something derogatory about, "_Kids today..._"

From the darkness, as Mr Van Hellsing turned back to him, Robin saw Jonno turn and flash a mobile in his direction, miming pressing a number...ah, police, he was going to call the police... A flash of calm stole over him for a moment and then Jonathan disappeared outside. Leaving him alone with a large, crazy, exceptionally angry Slayer...holding a white blade... Well, this wasn't going to end well...

~~~)0(~~~

Without taking more than one step outside the Church, he was immediately grabbed and pinioned to the white-washed wall by a very cold, angry hand...did he mention the grip of steel? He chocked and pointed to the ringing phone which had been dashed into the dirt, Vlad retrieved it, but something had fractured within the contraption and would no longer suffer to be turned on. "Dad, let him go, he was going to call the Police...he's on our side," said the younger Dracula.

The release was instant and he gasped, oxygen filling his deprived lungs for the first time in a good thirty-seconds, it was sweeter than honey...and Jonathan loved honey more than life, so that was saying something... "What could you possibly be doing that for, mortal?" asked the cold voice of Ingrid as she strode past her father, with...-was that Will?- behind her. "I...look, my dad's lost it, more than before, he'll kill Robin if he can't get his way...the council's ordered it..." the words tasted bitter in his mouth as memory flashed, "and I've had enough. Look, staking a vampire that's terrorizing thousands is one thing, burning my _girlfrie_- I mean, an innocent at a stake because she has magic or tying someone to a chair and torturing them 'back to humanity' is too far!" He was breathing hard, anger coursing through his veins...

"She was your girlfriend, the pretty blonde with the Love Potion, wasn't she?" asked Will, half-concerned; Jonathan looked away and nodded, fists clenching tightly, "Dad found out and had her burned for crimes against the natural order..." his heart thumped painfully against his ribs. There was a scream from inside, Vlad gasped and grabbed at his arm, it came away clean, but from the look in his eyes, you would swear someone had stabbed him... "Oh god...he wouldn't...no, he would...you want Branaugh back in one piece, I want to mount my father's head on a stick...betray him so badly he'll never trust again. Who's with me?"

Even the Count blinked in surprise before asking, "Well now, what do you have in mind...you cunning little devil?" Jonathan smirked...

**~~~)0(~~~**

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><p><strong>TBC...<strong>

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><p><strong>+Where will it end?<br>+What's going on?  
>+Are you crazy?<strong>

**My answer: Maybe...and Mwahahahahahhahahahaaaaaaaaa, there is so much more in store...prepare yourselves...**

**Next Chapter: _Chapter 10 - Ready-Made Ass-Kicking...Just Add Water!_**

**~*SailorSilvanesti*~**


	10. Chapter 10: ReadyMade AssKicking

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula...or it's characters...but I will admit to having Robin and Vlad chained in my Dungeon... I'm jus' sayin' if you want to borrow them... XD!**

Strap yourselves in...This will **BLOW**. **YOUR**. _**MIND**_!

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><p><strong>Chapter 10: Ready-made Ass-kicking...Just Add Water!<strong>

**~)0(~**

He was mid-swing, about to plunge the dagger into the opposite arm of the unnatural creature before him, when something paused his wild thinking; a scream, a cry for help from outside, achingly familiar...Jonathan. Jonathan was in danger...he contemplated ignoring it and turned back to the pale, sweating boy bound before him and raised the knife again, when he heard the piercing cry for help come again, and then stop suddenly...

He sighed, could that boy do nothing right? He thought, irritably; angered at being drawn away from what could very well be his shining moment of glory in Slayer History...

Van Hellsing strode outside with the air of an aggrieved customer at a restaurant, "Jonathan? _Jonno_! Show yourself this instant! This isn't funny, you- _whoa_!" His body was immediately yanked from the doorway, sailing through the air and slammed into a nearby tree...arms grabbed his own from behind and pulled them about the trunk so that they might be bound tightly with...it felt like sharp metal...razor-wire?

"Only the _best_ for someone who dares to steal one of _my_ children and cause them harm," came a jovial voice, and the Count came smiling into the moonlight; cold, vice-like fingers grabbed his face, "Bear in mind your actions when you see what comes next, human...this would not be possible if we had not had such a willing assistant. See what you have brought upon yourself...Is that not right, Jonathan?" A silhouette of his son framed by moonlight, was suddenly casting a shadow over his body... "He's right, _Dad_, you deserve whatever you get...and through it all, I want you to remember one little thing, I. Hate. You. Got it?"

"Well-spoken, my lad, well-spoken, _indeed_!" clapped Count Dracula delightedly, swanning back into view, flanked by his daughter, Ingrid and...was that Will? He was sure he'd seen that boy in class at some point... "Now, if you wouldn't mind, we all happen to be a tad..._Church-intolerant_, if you catch my meaning..." Jonathan nodded and disappeared inside the large building, sawing sounds could be heard...a snap, followed by several others...hushed whispers, Vlad relaxed by a tree to his right. Ingrid paced forwards, fangs on show, "Mr Van Hellsing, sorry I missed your class so much but...well, there's only so many times I can stare at your ugly mortal face and not want to tear it off...not very subtle when you taught us to make 'garden' stakes just before Halloween. Tsk Tsk...silly Slayer!" she giggled and danced away again.

With the speed of lightning, Vlad was by the door and grabbing a sagging Robin from Jonathan's arms, they both sank to the ground...the young Dracula frantically pressing at the deep wound in the taller boy's arm. Jonathan pulled something from his pocket, the army-issue compression bandage he always made him carry...of course! The pair of them wrapped it about the bleeding wound with great efficiency...he was surprised that none of the Vampires present had reacted to the blood that filled the air...

The Count glared at him balefully, "If your son was bleeding chocolate, for a random example, would you stop to taste it or save his life? You do not drink from family, especially not the weakest, they must be protected..." He blinked, how had the Count known what he was thinking...? "Because, you deranged Slayer, ...you're speaking aloud, did you not know? It seems not...Ah well, you are more fun this way..." he paced about the other, Van Hellsing straining his neck to keep his eyes on the count as he disappeared about the wide tree-trunk, only to reappear on the other side...

"Are you ready, my boy?" Count Dracula called over his shoulder, Jonathan nodded bravely and stood, there was blood staining his hands, but the frantic rush to stop the bleeding had ceased at least...Ingrid moved closer, circling his son and gently tugging him out into open space. She kissed his cheek and whispered something he could not hear, but his heart began to race as Jonathan closed his eyes, tilting his head back. Will came up behind the teen, Ingrid before, holding carefully onto the clenched fists and seemingly giving instruction to the other...he looked away as Will's fangs flared and sank deep into the dark flesh of his son's throat. There was a gasp, but Ingrid -uncharacteristically- was making soft shushing noises and running her cold hands up and down Jonathan's forearms until the fists unclenched. She smiled in a way that would make nuns blush and moved closer; by now, he was shaking with rage against his bonds and straining as hard as possible to reach them, stop them...he must be hypnotised! Some rational explanation for the low moan that fell from his lips in a _not-quite-groan-of-agony_ manner that made him want to block out the sight...the blasted child was _enjoying this_!

"And why not? Initially, there is a twinge, I've been told, but it's reported to be a rather pleasurable experience..." countered the Count, damn, speaking aloud again; the Count smirked. His heart pounded so hard he felt it was going to burst from his chest in fear as he saw Jonathan go limp and was carefully caught by Ingrid. The Vampiress lifted his body and half-handed him over to Will so they both had a free arm, before biting her own wrist deeply-as Will mirrored the action for his own, fangs sinking into the creamy, pale flesh- and pressing it to Jonathan's parted lips...letting dark liquid seep from the bleeding bite-marks marring the raised wrists and mingle together as it dripped slowly into the yielding mouth...

With one last evil grin in his direction, the Vampires and what had been his son, -for he could not think of such a betrayal as anything but relationship-ending-, flitted away into the night. The Count rounded on him and whispered cold words into his ear, "He's _my son now_..." and slammed a hand down on his temple...the world faded out of focus and fell to black.

~~~)0(~~~

"Robin? Robin! Please...please just say something!" he whispered urgently, not even looking as Will tested out the best bit of his new abilities...and then his father was by his side, scooping up the human from his arms and making a 'We're going!' look in his direction...and they flitted together through the darkness...

~~~)0(~~~

Shuddering from the strange cold that seemed to seep through the town, Mr Branaugh wrapped the long coat more firmly about himself and glanced at the sky; he had been looking for something...but could not rightly remember exactly what... He blinked as two nearly-identical voices shouted at one another in the general vicinity of his unguarded back and turned swiftly, the Twins paused mid yelling-match to stare at their father with a question in their eyes and blindingly yellow sheets of paper in their hands.

"Dad? We...what are you doing out here? I mean...what are _we_ doing out here?" asked Paul, simply to fill the dumb-struck silence that had fallen between the Branaugh trio; Ian stared down at the paper and then straight back up at his father, thrusting it out at the older man, "Who is this? Wait...isn't it...isn't it that weird brat, Robin? Why are we looking for him?" Ian was clearly confused; as it seemed, was Paul...

As Mrs Branaugh and Chloe came bustling towards them from the other end of the street and he looked up, to the foreboding gray clouds circling like the chill wind that had descended so suddenly; _should rain tonight_, he mused to himself as he felt his mind trying frantically to work out an answer, if only to tell himself... The image of a happy, smiling toddler he knew so well playing with the Twins as young children flashed to mind, and dissolved like bubbles in a soapy tub...he rubbed his eyes, tired, and sighed. "_I don't know boys...I just don't know..._"

Had any of them thought to look back as they turned away and trudged towards the Branaugh abode, they might have caught the briefest flicker of several dark shapes flitting past in a great frenzy of motion...

~~~)0(~~~

There was a sharp intake of breath; her cold heart constricted deep within dead flesh, eyes seeking out and sharing a meaningful look with Will, by her side as ever. Two sets of cold hands trailed down the suddenly writhing form, he had died long ago and was just now losing the last of the living warmth left to his body... "Shhh, it's alright, it's okay..." she hushed, stroking the short dark hair; likewise did Will firmly clutch the darker hand, already pale in death -or should he say, _undeath_?-, and her dead heart fluttered.

The concern on his beautiful face was a reflection of her own as she, Ingrid, had sat patiently and waited; watching with enough intensity to bore a hole through solid concrete, for the faintest signs of unlife in Will, only a day ago now... She knew how he felt now, there was fear, love and concern in the gaze he bestowed on the former Slayer...there was a strong bond between a Vampire and their progeny...natural or blood-bound, as it was in this instance. As Will was hers for eternity, Jonathan would always bear the same amount of affinity for him and she readily accepted this, he was equally bound to her...

Moaning low and long, the other sucked in air futility as red eyes snapped open, clearing quickly to their natural brown... "D-Did it work?" he rasped, throat dry and disbelief in his voice as he struggled upright; the pair worked silently to help him upright, Will flitted to the Kitchen and back in an instant, and passed over a cup that had sat warming on the stove for a short while since their return. The enticing scent wafted about the room like a tantalizing perfume, red steam seemed to rise from the blue-and-yellow striped mug with the epitaph, "_Death Becomes Me_!" and a smiley face bearing fangs on one side. She remembered giving that to her father when she was little, he had praised her for it...mainly as she had stolen it...a smile came to her lips at that memory as Will encouraged Jonathan to drink...

There was a soft sipping noise, his eyes flared red again and fangs descended; the teen gave a small exclamation of surprise and felt them for the first time, "Whoa...that was...intense... Does this happen every time?" he asked, looking to them for answers as stray trails of blood ran down his chin. Ingrid frowned and wiped them away on the corner of her robe, "Well, yes and no...it gets better than that, I can assure you, that was only your first taste." It seemed she would to say more, but there was a terrific bang as the front doors burst open and her father called for them all in a seeming panic...

Slipping from her coffin -for they had no other to place him in at the time...-, Jonathan flexed his fingers and marveled at the strength now coursing through him; though he stumbled as he tried to take an independent step and sagged into the supporting grip of Will. He blinked in surprise, but there was no more time for another round of Q & A...his...-was the word '_Sire_'?- whatever Will was grabbed his firmly and the room blurred from recognition, Ingrid keeping pace beside them...

~~~)0(~~~

Moonlight flecked the pale, bloodstained features as his father gently laid Robin down on the grand table -having already seen Vlad dash all the items lining it's top to the floor in a fell swoop of fear and rage- and he took great care to examine the injuries of the boy. Near beside himself with the conflicting emotions within, both his own and those of the half-aware yet delirious, Robin; Vlad found himself unable to do anything more than stare and hold back tears. This was his fault...if he's never gone to school, if he hadn't have spoken to the one person there who was glad to listen...if he hadn't fought so hard to be normal, this wouldn't have happened...

There was an overwhelming sensation of anger from Robin, his thoughts were shoved aside in an almost physical manner and, looking over, one pale hand twitched, from where it fell off the edge of the table, sweat breaking out on the brow as if from some strenuous task...the bleeding dagger mark stood out in stark contrast to his complexion... Somehow, instinctively, he _knew_ Robin was aware of his thoughts and strove to make them more cheerful; though his eyes lingered on the bloody mess that was the other's arm and quaked a little...why had Van Hellsing done that? But then again, Jonathan had mentioned his father had lost his mind even more than usual, maybe this was just the manifestation? The pent-up madness and rage fueling this obsessive Vampire hunting all released upon one helpless individual he deemed, 'unnatural'...

He sighed and stamped his foot in frustration, pounding a wall just to watch the stones shiver under his strength; who cared why the man had done it...really? What mattered was that he did, and as much as he wished he could simply flit back there and tear the man's limbs off one by one, he knew it was a futile thought...what if something happened to Robin while he was not here? He could never live...uh, make that...he would _rather stand in sunlight_ than continue on through eternity knowing this was his fault...

~~~)0(~~~

Blood dribbled lazily down the boy's chin as he watched, and he blinked in surprise, intense gaze following the trail all the way back to the near-bloodless lips, and the half-formed question died on his own; ah...it seemed the boy had bitten deep into his own lip. He frowned and shook his head imaging the reasoning behind it as Ingrid, her new Bloodling, Will and their newest addition, came flitting into the room. "Sorry sir, would have come faster but..." Will gestured to Jonathan, who clung to his cape with wide eyes, never having experienced the sensation of flitting before. He made a mental note to give the boy Flitting Practice later on, hate to have to clean him off a wall somewhere...

"_Quite alright..._" he muttered, distractedly as his fingers probed between the crimson-sodden bandages to assess the damage without removing what could effectively be the only means of stopping the boy from bleeding to death... The wound was deep, a hiss could be heard through suddenly-clenched lips as the eyes flickered open to gaze right back... Count Dracula was most impressed with the fact the boy was determinedly clinging to consciousness; not a rational move, but better than to never wake again...

He probed again, the tear was jagged, like the blade had gone in straight but been torn out in a downward manner with great force, extending the injury for another few centimeters...a disgusting business, blood pooled everywhere and yet, he noted as he began unraveling the bandage, there was not the merest trace of hunger to his thoughts. Appetite completely subdued by a strange, sick sensation in the pit of his stomach; whatever for, he felt he should remember, but did not... Slick crimson liquid covered his hands, he frowned and saw Vlad turn away looking quite ill, the Count could hardly blame him in such an instance and saw the other three standing stock still with a grave solemnity to their watchful gazes.

Robin gasped under his hands; fingers pressing to the wound and squeezing it shut. It illicited a small groan from not only the boy, but also Vlad, who sank to his knees and clasped his arm. "_D_-Dad..._stop_, _please_!" he gasped and fell back to rest against the wall, eyes distant and vague, yet fixed on the Branaugh boy... He complied with the plea, releasing the area momentarily to watch the dark liquid pool over his hands again and the horrifying way the boy grew paler and paler by the instant...

Vlad seemed not to be able to hear or care for the manner in which his sister attempted to rouse him with methods both verbal and physical; just lolling as she shook him like a pale doll against the large stone wall...Robin also ceased to struggle against the prevailing unconsciousness and fell limp under his hands. It was then his heart surged for the first time in many centuries, instilled with a cold fear as he remembered the very words lifted from the small booklet he had been sent by the Council...

"_Should empathy occur, as it is bound to do so, the Prophetae must be turned else you risk more than their life alone. To the one they remain bound, a death could mean their own..."_

He sighed in anger at the ridiculous poetical nonsense they used to spell one very key, -though ridiculously told- fact...if Robin died...so would Vlad...and right now, neither seemed particularly inclined to dispel the heavy sense of dread settling on him like a lead weight.

**~~~)0(~~~**

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><p><strong>TBC...<strong>

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><p><strong>Have I got you on the edge of your seats yet?<strong>

Thanks to the Awesome Reviewers, it's lovely to hear from you all!^^

**Next Chapter: _Chapter 11 - Down Comes Baby, Cradle & All..._**

**_See you soon!^^_**


	11. Chapter 11: Down Comes Baby, Cradle &

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula, though I did make up a few background characters that are ALL MINE BABY!**

**I am SO SORRY for this being so late, it was a combination of Technological Purgatory [Parental-Internet-Ban] and a loss of where I was going with the story...**

**Again, sorry; please enjoy...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: Down Comes Baby, Cradle &amp; All...<strong>

**~)0(~**

Something was definitely missing, there was a lingering space to the family that nothing any could think of would fill; even the elusive child that flashed into many a mind could not be fully recognized before some, previously-unimportant, fact or ridiculous statement about whatever first caught the speaker's mental eye, and spouted from unwilling lips. Just this morning the school had rung, asking after the welfare of some boy whose name he could never truly remember now; Elizabeth had spent a half-hour chatting vaguely about knitting patterns before the Receptionist had hung up on her.

Shortly after, it took the family by surprise to find two tall, rather muscular Policemen standing on their front porch, stern expressions giving the impression they had just been forced to eat something unmentionable in polite society… Constables Brackwater and Furst had been exceptionally insistent that they sight the boy, whose name constantly fell from memory like melted butter on warm crumpets, seeping away through cracks and holes…

"Sir we are going to have to insist we see your son, one…" Constable Brackwater flipped open his notebook with an authoritarian gesture, "…Robin Branaugh. Otherwise, would you care to explain his sudden disappearance? Apparently, when the school rang and his whereabouts brought into question, your wife simply answered with inane fervor about arts and crafts…suspicious behavior sir, now please, show us to his room." Mr Branaugh blinked, thinking really hard, and being rewarded with a light-bulb moment…

"Oh yes, I remember now! You'll have to be rather quiet, he's in his room, a tad poorly…" his finger made the universal gesture for quiet and led them up the stairs; a look passed between the two Officers from behind his back, something along the lines of, '_Something's wrong here…_' and '_He's a Space Cadet…'_

They reached the top and wandered down the corridor; Police Officers striding, the other dreamily leading them as though in a trance, the instant his hand touched the doorknob, Mr Branaugh flipped back around and started to talk about Radishes…

Brackwater and Furst had had enough, with the former pushing the blathering man sharply out of the way, Furst turned the knob and stared at the stark emptiness of it all…not a thing, bar the furniture and sheets on the bed, were left. Correction, the sheets strewn from the bed to the door, as if someone was dragged away, resisting fiercely; fighting to be free…he wheeled about and stared to his colleague with a faint, officious nod.

"Sir, would you and your wife mind coming down to the station to answer a few questions about the whereabouts of Robin?" Brackwater asked politely, the man blinked, "Certainly, but…who is Robin?" the genuine confusion on his face was rather puzzling for the officers, but all the same, they frog-marched the man from the house. Mrs. Branaugh was dragged away from the washing up rather forcefully; both animatedly chatting about teapots as they were loaded into the van…

The morning was crisp, fog filtering about and obscuring the sun; still, though, several bleary-eyed children appeared in the doorway with confused gazes locked on the officers…the youngest -a girl who bore the look of one much older- with the most querulous expression on her face either man had ever seen, "Excuse me, but under what Legal obligation are you escorting my mam and dad from their residence at this ridiculous time of morning?" she asked, stunning the pair.

Twin boys to either side of her and much older, backed the query with a very sincere, "Yeah!" in unison; Brackwater took it upon himself to answer, "We are simply taking your parents downtown to the station to have a nice little chat about your brother, Robin…have any of you seen him recently? And why are you not at school?" The girl wrinkled her nose, "Robin…? I- haven't seen him since…did you know Krypton is actually a gaseous element on the Periodic Table and not just some glowing green rock fragment of an exploded planet from the Superman Comics?" She blinked, "Oh, yes…well the reason we aren't at school, is simply that the teachers are having an emergency meeting over Mr Van Hellsing…he showed up to work all bloody and injured, screaming out vengeance against some students…so they sent us home, and I was trying to get through my Calculus Homework."

Furst was nodding, recalling the frantic whine of an ambulance siren as it sped through town that morning, several of the morning shift officers had been called to restrain some crazy man swearing vengeance on his son, threatening to kill two other students and trying to convince them all that there were Vampires living in the town…Hah, what a ludicrous idea! _Vampires_, right…_and it rained Jellybeans every Thursday_… A thought struck him. Come to think of it…

"Dave, I just thought of something!" he pulled the other man to the side and mentioned in a low voice, "Remember the crazy guy Martin and Frank were telling us about? What three names was he yelling over and over again?" Constable Brackwater thought hard a moment before replying, "He was yelling about his son, Jonathan Van Hellsing, some kid named Vlad Dracula and…" the prolific Light-Bulb Moment occurred, "…-and Robin Branaugh! Oh Gods, you don't think he did anything to them, do you?" Furst looked grim, "Well, we'll just have to find out then…won't we? Come on, let's get this lot to the station…either we question them or give them the bad news…"

Striding back from around the van, both officers closed the back of their Paddy wagon, waved to the kids and slipped into the front seats, driving away with lights flaring, siren on and all possible urgency…

~)0(~

Was he supposed to be this weak? It felt like something important was missing, his knees shook and his dead heart was quivering from some strange sense of exertion, but he would never say it… Dark eyes glanced over the form of Ingrid, who was by his side, her eyes fixed on the Boy on the table. He didn't even need to look to see where Will was, it was an almost instinctual knowledge where he and Ingrid were…but still he did; if only to void the image of the lifeless Robin upon the table, and equally dead looking Vlad, slumped by a wall.

Of course, Vlad was technically _already dead_, but he could still 'die' in the sense of ceasing existence…and if the tense mood so thick in the room's atmosphere was any indicator, that was fast becoming a distinct possibility… Neither stirred, but for the faint stirring of breath in Robin's lungs; he found himself mirroring the action from a combination of hope, fear and instinctual habit…his eyes discerned the faintest of pulses from where it beat in Robin's throat…

The strange sense of hunger and longing that rushed through his body like adrenaline at the thought of biting someone was dampened when his mind registered it was Robin, you didn't bite family; Ingrid had drilled that into him…although, truth be told, it was more an unspoken thing that came with the turning…he felt no desire to bite _Robin_. Someone else, _anyone else, _yes…but not anyone in this room, living or dead… Well, maybe Ingrid, or even Will…which was permissible, as they were his Sires…and was a usual custom for gaining strength, but otherwise, no…

An intensely interested stare was meeting another in the center of his shoulder blades, he didn't need to turn to guess who they were; and then he mentally cursed, rather loudly, he'd forgotten Vampires could read the thoughts of others or certain mortals…they'd just heard every bit of his musings…and probably him thinking this. So they were hearing _his thinking about him thinking about their thoughts on his thinking about-…_he groaned and clutched his head. If he thought about it too hard, he actually felt a headache forming…so he abandoned the whole idea in favour of watching the Count pace back and forth like a caged panther…black, sinewy body stretched out and constantly moving, a hand tapping at the pale chin in thought.

"Here…" something white and glowing in the gloom appeared below his range of vision and fast encroached…a bare wrist, it was Ingrid's. "Well, you were thinking about it, weren't you? Don't worry, it's normal, all Bloodlings both need and crave that of their Sires…and judging from the way you're trembling, I should have thought of it earlier… I'd send you back to your coffin, but I have a feeling you'd just sneak back out…" A rare, genuine smile graced her beautifully bloodless features, then she turned back to Will, "but you are so, totally, doing the day-feeds. I need my beauty sleep…" and the other laughed.

Jonathan hesitated a moment, then slipped his fangs into her cold, dead flesh, which held the most precious of liquids…as Ingrid continued to insinuate that he would wake up crying out and hungry, or just needing comfort, sometime [or numerous times] during the day, and require Nursery Rhymes (Vampire Style) to be sung; Will looking on with a bemused expression…

~)0(~

Everywhere throbbed, that was what he could tell, could _sense_; Vlad stirred fitfully against the pain emanating from the other mind, but did not wake…at first. He was startled to consciousness as his father yelled, "Quiet!" at the figures across the room, all three froze and slunk back to the safe haven of the shadows to their rear. Choking in surprise for a moment, he jolted upright and let a wave of fear crash over him…then shoved it aside with some significant mental force, before letting calm seep over him. Letting down the loose mental barrier he had erected, he allowed the sensation of calm to crossover to Robin, who was twitching fretfully and looking worse by the moment…one look at the wound told him no amount of healing spit he, or any other present, could conjure would fix it…

Something also told him his father had had the exact same idea, encountered the issue and then dismissed it out of hand; the knife had gone in too far, too deep, and come out in such a jagged manner that any sort of rapid healing would simply glue things back together loosely and incorrectly… He pounded a fist into the floor, earning the surprised gaze of all in the room, but before anyone could say anything at all, he had made his way to Robin's side and was gazing down with his dead heart fluttering…

Again, he felt the guilt, nay, the overwhelming sensation that was his conscience screaming out that he, Vlad Dracula, was solely responsible for his best –and only- friend's imminent demise, and then it was gone; and the pale barely breathing body beneath his gaze was muttering something… he bent down to hear. "_Stop it…not your fault…my choice…_"

Even dying, the other was trying to assuage his guilt, it was ridiculous; Vlad felt he should be the one offering comfort, but it was as if his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, or his brain was on holiday…for, all of a sudden, his mind was blank and words would not come. His father came to stand beside him, gripping the shoulder tightly, "Vlad, there's only one way to save him…you have to kill your little friend, though…" the Count didn't voice what they were all thinking. There was a chance it wouldn't work, most successful turnings required at least a partly-healthy Breather to begin with, and Robin was near dead…

Still, if there was a chance, they had to try…

~)0(~

"For the last time, Mr Van Hellsing, what did you do with the children?" yelled Constable Brian Furst, striding back and forth like a lion, if he'd had one, his tail would be flicking a warning to whoever beheld it… Constable David Brackwater watched his partner carefully, simultaneously keeping an eye on the prisoner shackled to the interrogation table and making certain the other officer didn't go too far… Judges looked poorly on misconduct even in the most vile of cases…

This Van Hellsing fellow was bandaged about the forehead and wrists, bruises lined his jaw and arms, though you wouldn't have been able to tell normally…except that they had confiscated his leather jacket the moment he had been dragged to the station. Good job too, there had been the most startling array of wooden stakes, canisters of what looked to be water, crucifixes and knives…a worrying development in the case of the missing boys… Religious fanatics were always the most gruesome of murderers…they didn't hold much hope of finding the boys alive…

If they only knew how close to the truth they really were…

~)0(~

Someone was breathing hard, close to his ear…their cold aura was projecting itself out towards him; the only person in the entire castle who took to breathing when they got emotional was Vlad, so he surmised it was, indeed, Vlad…in a right panic too, by the sound of it…and the sensation. A cold hand brushed past the fire in his arm, and he flinched…shrinking away… dimly he heard someone whispering an apology; stroking his forehead, like his mother did when he was little, with a fever. To be honest it was so hot and cold at the same time his body couldn't seem to make up its mind which was which…his face was flushed with the fire in his arm and shoulders, but everywhere else was alternately made of ice or lava, for it coursed and burned in waves.

The hand was like ice, and he loved the sensation, he was sure there were small clouds of steam rising from his forehead right now…like in the cartoons…maybe he should make a quip about frying an egg there? He coughed, it was harsh and grating against his throat…which felt raw from screaming so loudly before; alright, maybe he'd save the wise-cracks for later… Five voices laughed all the same; he was puzzled an instant, then realization sunk in… _oh right, Vampire Telepathy _or whatever they called it…

"I _could_ send Renfield for a few eggs…" mused the Count's voice, he felt his eyes flicker open in surprise at the suggestion, he'd only been joking… "Ah, there you are, I thought that might wake you properly…Vlad has a proposal for you." There was a muted, "_I knew it!_" from Ingrid, and stifled laughter… He looked to a nervously hand-wringing Vlad and laboriously raised an eyebrow, smiling wanly he whispered, "_Oh Vlad, I don't know what to say, I didn't know you felt that way about me!_" His high, strained, but obviously off-key female voice helped to lighten the ominous mood that had descended on them all like a heavy fog. Co-incidentally, there happened to be a magnificently sun-obscuring fog outside the house, dark clouds brooding across the skyline from the night before… a wonderful day for anyone of their persuasion…

Vlad rolled his eyes, "How can you joke about something like that at a time like this…? I swear, you'd be making Nazi's-riding-Dinosaur jokes during the Apocalypse…if I let you, but I won't!" They laughed at the private joke, for they'd stolen a certain DVD set from the Branaugh Twin's room…and the Count had caught them, then praised the pair for being evil! He honestly was the _coolest Dad EVER_…if his own had found out, he'd never have sat down again…_if he'd lived_…

The Count cleared his throat, "My_ Coolness_ aside, it's about living that we'd like to speak to you…" Robin felt his eyes sparkle, then the world took on that frighteningly awesome purple tinge as he felt his mouth move, "_Three are missing, three must die; Two are long past breath, to save them all the last must feel the pangs of death… Van Hellsing, enemy, sits in custody though not for long… The police will charge him with murder, if only they can find the bodies…_" He sank back, exhausted and weak, but the rather worrying sparkle had returned to the Count's eyes, and he turned away to think upon the 'prophecy'…

Although, Robin was pretty sure if he started spouting "_Row, Row, Row your Boat_" in the same tone, he'd probably end up with a Vampire Navy…maybe he should try that some time… Whoa, since when was the room spinning? He shut his eyes against it all, Vlad leant closer to whisper in his ear, _"Robin, I-…look, you have a choice…we can take you to a hospital or something…but the nearest one's in the next town… or…or I could...turn you. I have to warn you though, Dad thinks there's a chance you might…well, die…and not in a 'first step to Vampire resurrection' kind of way. More permanent…it's because you're injured, and I've never done it before…and…" _He was stalling for time, Robin could feel it, but smiled and a weak, pale hand reached up a fraction to grab the wrist trailing by the table at hip-level…

"I trust you, I'm going to die anyway…go ahead…" he replied, and tilted his head back with great effort… Vlad's emotions went crazy, most of all flustered and full of fear, "I…if you're _sure_…" his wrists were taken in a firm grasp and suddenly there were fangs piercing the delicate flesh of his throat…

~)0(~

Words of the prophecy flared in his mind like small candles in the dark, shattering and re-arranging in many a different combination until a plan began to form, the message was clear! Like the light being thrown on in a room full of Vampires, the greatest obstacle they had ever known was slowly being disintegrated before his very eyes… Whirling about in a flurry of cloaks to inform the others of his marvelous genius, he paused and smiled toothily in pride as his son took his first bite…but there was worry also, the Count frowned. What a day to be discovering he cared…

~)0(~

Struggling to keep his emotions in check as Robin gasped dryly and writhed, momentarily shocked at the sensation of Vlad's fangs buried in his flesh, before exhaling softly in a warm sort of inexplicable pleasure. Even so, Vlad maintained a firm grasp on his friend's wrists, just in case he flailed; the rapid heartbeat was surging blood into his mouth with every pump…though gradually, it slowed…he felt Robin growing weaker and weaker under his hands…

It was a desperate fear that beat in his chest, negating the useless heart already there…what if he got it wrong, what if…? So many things could go wrong, and so many right…he tried hard to remember all those ridiculous 'biting lessons' his father had put him through… Surprised that they had actually come in handy for something…it was like Maths, he supposed, long and tedious to learn, but needed in everyday [or should that be every_night_?] real life like oxygen for breathers…

Strength coursed through his body as Robin's blood chased itself through his veins, surging for the first time since…since he'd given up life to save his family just a handful of nights ago… It was an exhilarating, and terrifying sensation, no wonder the Count was addicted to it! At the same time, the stilling of the form below him was worrying…when did he stop? There wasn't a huge amount of blood left in the taller boy, having bled freely for so long, and he could feel the surge slowing down…there was barely a beat in the heart below him, more a murmur…the breath nothing more than the faintest puff…

"Give it back now," instructed the cold voice of Ingrid, an _expert_ after two successful turnings _apparently_…he wrenched the sleeve off of one wrist savagely with his mouth, exposing the pale skin and biting unreservedly into his own flesh…blood that was probably Robin's own came dribbling out. He frantically placed it to the parted lips and let it trickle as best it was able into the other's mouth…too slow, was it working? How did he know?

His other hand was holding Robin's wrist so tight, if he had had any blood left, it would have been cutting off the circulation…the Count circled behind and made an approving noise in the background. His chest constricted slightly from fear…but he supposed that –as he still technically 'lived'- so did Robin, because the alternative was him poofing into dust or something… Then Robin shuddered and went still, his heart fell out of his chest in that same, strange sensation he had felt after accepting his reflection…and for some reason, that gave him hope; it meant it was working!

…didn't it?

~)0(~

* * *

><p><strong><em>TBC...<em>**

* * *

><p><strong>Second-Last Chapter down, I know, getting exciting right?<strong>

**Hold onto your Fangs, people!**

**I'm nearly finished the next chapter, which is called:**

_**Chapter 12: It's the Final Countdown...**_

_**PLEASE REVIEW!^^**_


	12. Chapter 12: It's the Final Countdown

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula...but I do now own your soul, ! No seriously...I own your soul! XD**

**SAFETY WARNING: Strap yourselves in...this gets awesomely intense!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 12: It's the Final Countdown…<strong>

**~)0(~**

He was gone.

He was so frustrated, he fumed and paced back and forth; there was a mixture of hatred at letting him go, fear for what he would do now, and horror at the thought that that sicko was out there right now; probably hiding the bodies this very instant, unhindered by the strong arm of the Law…

"Brian, this isn't going to help matters, you know that! Calm Down!" placated the other Constable, David Brackwater; he too, was full of fury at their inability to hold the man, but found no solace in pacing angrily, as his partner was doing.

A large gaping hole in the shattered two-way mirror gazed ominously at them both from across the room; the table lay in almost two halves, the metal rail so recently holding their prisoner by way of handcuffs, snapped and bent on the floor… It just showed the level of maddened strength psychos like Van Hellsing were capable of… Still, the lingering scent of failure was strong in the small room; and both officers were forced to inhale deeply, the cloying scent was nearly over-powering…and yet the disorientation from the last few moments was just as strong.

"I only turned my back for a moment…" David lamented, crouching down to kneel by Brian, who had sunk to the floor with his back to the wall, head in his hands; his own movements were stiff, the fire down the left side of his ribs was intensifying and he gaped silently a moment, pieces of glass crunching in his skin and under his knees. "Look, Brian, even I didn't think he'd do that…and you know how damn particular I can get about that kind of thing, overly-cautious, I know…but with good reason. I mean, I didn't think for one second he was going to snap the cuffs! How did he _do that_?" Constable Brackwater tried to comfort his partner. No one in their right mind could have foreseen the man's irrational actions and prevented it…

"C'mon, let's get you down the hall and have Dr. Macy have a look-see at that whack you took, Dave…" sighed Constable Furst, rubbing the back of his head and smiling, the damage to his pride nearly as major as the concussion he probably received from meeting head-on with that chair Van Hellsing had used in an attempt to crack his skull like an egg. "Yeah, you're right…I mean, half the station is already out looking for him, they won't miss us." Brackwater sighed and winced as he rose…the pair stumbled down the hallway of the Police Station to the Infirmary. Neither even glanced to the oblivious inhabitants of the next-door room, as Mr and Mrs. Branaugh sat patiently and discussed the aesthetic values of flower-arranging…

~)0(~

Zoltan was having a rotten day.

Not exactly his first, but he had a feeling it would not be the last for a long while... The loathsome servant creature, Renfield, and he were ensconced in the back rooms of the castle; both knew something was happening in the main chambers and yet, neither were game enough to explore the exact happenings. It was safer here.

There was a rapping sound at the back door that could only be described as knocking, but in some form of discreet code he knew only too well…it must be one of the Breathers, the family members of Robin…and a very specific one at that. He bade Renfield open the door, and low and behold, there stood the youngest of the Branaugh brood, Chloe; a vague look to her features…though one hand was still raised in the knocking position…

"What can I do for you, Chloe…?" Zoltan asked, feeling his hackles raised slightly at the look in her eyes…but she did not reply. The young blonde blinked, tilted her head to the side and asked with a confused expression, "Zoltan, why did I come here…? I…I don't remember!" she cried with a wild look to her eyes. He felt bad as her bottom lip began to tremble, and took pity on her, urging Chloe inside without words; then the long tangled mess of confused babbling and concern for a vague someone's safety erupted from her mouth…

Zoltan found himself wishing he hadn't opened the door…was it possible to have a headache if your head was stuffed with sawdust?

~)0(~

As if to spite him, Robin refused to wake; eyes tightly shut, skin as pale as any Dracula and lifeless as a corpse. In any other circumstance, this would be a cause for joy…but now…Vlad began to panic; until, that is, Robin groaned. "_Ugh…what…? Did it work_?" stirred a weak voice in the still, tense air that filled the room like depressing silence in a tomb; his long limbs shuddered as they turned deathly cold with the finality of a corpse. At last his temperature now matched his complexion…

"Robin!" he cried and flung himself on the other, squeezing with all his Vampire Strength…and was surprised to be hugged back with just the same, "Whoa, it really worked! I was so worried I'd screwed up somehow and…" he suddenly trailed off, eyes searching the expanding mark on the other's face. Robin must have sensed what he was thinking, or maybe that faint tingling Vlad's face was taking on, was the broadening _Signatum Sanguine Prophetae _marking on Robin's face… The dark Dagger was much larger, extending down from the left temple to above the left eye, a small crimson droplet of blood leaving a trail down past the eye and curving inwards on the cheekbone. Vlad resisted the urge to touch his face, or Robin's…but Robin was under no such illusions and reached up a hand to trail the marking.

It fairly glowed with dark intent on his deathly pale face…and his _eyes_...

"Well _done_, Vladdy my boy! Your first successful turning and your first bite, all in one!" Emphasized and congratulated the Count as he stalked over and cut short Vlad's musings by clapping him about the shoulders with a proud manner and much posturing –seriously, if the Count was an animal…it would be a peacock, showy and attention-loving. Dragging him in close and squeezing with such affection Vlad was certain his eyes might just pop out of their sockets at any second…

Then he turned his affections on the surprised-looking Robin, whose long fingers were probing at the marking on his face and gazing dimly at a mirror on the other side of the room through his uniquely blended eyes of vivid purple and blood red, both colours swirling and fighting for dominance in a spectacular display… Rather like a Lava Lamp…the thought earned Vlad a dark glance from Robin…

"Oh, don't bother, you won't be able to see anything…we have a slight _aversion_ –you could say- to mirrors. In any case, _Welcome to the Family, boy_!" grinned the Count, placing a hand on Robin's shoulder and dragging all the attention in the room back to him, a Drama Queen if ever there was one in Vampire Lore…

"Now, I know we can do this later, but I should point out we may need to discuss the changing of your name…oh no, you can keep Robin if you want, I was referring –of course- to replacing your last name with 'Dracula'…I would be glad to adopt you. Ingrid has already shown her intention to marry Will and he's happy enough to join us and change his name, which means that they will adopt Jonathan formally as their Bloodling…but you are a special case." Started his Father, leading up to a huge long spiel about 'tradition' and the 'honour of being a Dracula'…but Vlad forestalled him. Thankfully…

"Dad, how about you just leave that for now…maybe you'd care to tell us about your _ingenious _plan?" Vlad drew the word out like a strand of taffy, for effect of course, and then continued with a rather sarcastic tone that his father never seemed to notice. "I mean, you've pretty much done nothing else for the last hour and a half but talk about it, might as well tell us!" He vaguely saw Robin mouth the words '_hour and a half'_ with a rather scandalized look [maybe he thought it would take longer? _Who knew with Robin…?_], the melancholy expression didn't last long, for the other mouthed, '_All Right!_' and gave it the 'Fist-pump of Approval'…leaving a chuckling Vlad to shake his head in amusement. Living with Robin for all eternity was going to be an interesting experience…

~)0(~

Sirens blared in the distance, his heartbeat was hard and fast; a tattoo in his chest that felt as if it would burst through his ribcage or at the very least, fracture something. His feet pounded the earth, brushing aside hanging branches that clawed at him…scarring his skin, and latching onto the thin shirt he wore, tearing it to shreds in moments. Jeans were dirtied, boots caked in mud from several nights ago, and sadly, he found himself weaponless in this desperate time.

No thought existed bar the desperate need for revenge on those who were 'evil'; his thrice-cursed son included! They would be at the castle, this he knew; and that was his destination, even when he had been shackled to the table down at the small, local precinct office. In any other state, Van Hellsing would never have considered throwing one of the officers through a window as a means of escape, nor slamming a chair about the head of the other…although, normally, he would never have possessed the maddened strength enough to break free of the handcuffs in the first place.

Such a state had he been in, though only a pre-cursor to the one he was in now, that the cuffs had snapped like rubber bands past their limits; the bar that secured them to the table warped and broke beneath his hands; starting his liberation by first slamming the closest Constable by his shoulder [the so-called 'Good Cop' who had protecting him from his furious creature across the room] into the cold gray stainless steel table. The metal bending sheer in half and snapping from the force…then he remembered a vague vision of hurling the man across the room and smashed the two-way mirror into a dozen pieces, creating a means of escape.

The man had slumped to the floor and lay still a moment, but his partner hadn't. The one who had stalked and yelled so angrily just seconds before came forth, brandishing his gun; but a simple swipe he had learned in basic Slayer Training all those years ago had been enough to disarm the man. A follow-up chair to the back of the head had also helped to keep the officer docile during Van Hellsing's escape…and then, out through the shattered window he went!

The time for vengeance was at hand, so what if they were under the impression he'd murdered three teens, including his own son…? Maybe, they had just been thinking a little too far in the future… His rampant thoughts were brought to a standstill as swift as a horse whose reins had been yanked abruptly…well, it seemed the Vampires were slipping…a trail of blood led away from the road to the castle. Splotches here and there led away from the castle entrance, off towards the woods…his mouth upturned in a smile that was quite insane when beheld…

"Vengeance will be mine…" he hissed, and turned to disappear under the eaves of the swiftly-darkening forest…

~)0(~

"_He looks like a peacock, strutting about…_" whispered Jonathan from his side, he felt a warm smile move across his lips as Ingrid laughed brazenly at the statement; her dark eyes were sparkling with a malicious light…and he loved it. Will moved slightly to get closer to her, "Hey…" he whispered breathily; she looked back. "Hey yourself, handsome…we should listen, he's about to unveil his 'Master Plan' and I could use a good joke right about now." Her fangs were out in a display of mirth, one of her hands danced down his spine, whoa…she was excited all right…whilst the other slid over Jonathan's right shoulder where it faced them. "I have a feeling it involves you, though, Jonno…ready to play a little slight-of-hand with the Breathers?" her voice was low and raspy, yet compelled obedience; dark eyes looked back to them, flared red a moment, then he nodded.

Her father, his future Father-in-Law, strode about the room in a swirl of cloaks. "It seems to me, the words you spoke earlier Marked One…were very helpful in devising a plan on how we may best extract you from this place. Speaking of which, do you feel up to moving to Transylvania…?" the lingering question was met by a bright-eyed jolt of excitement, of course from Robin… "You like that idea? Excellent… Well, I was puzzling out the words and suddenly, my own enormous intelligence realised what they meant!"

Never one to shy away from tooting his own horn [a foghorn or tube, to be exact], the Count then launched into a –seemingly pre-prepared- speech on his brilliance whilst simultaneously outlining the plan… Ingrid sighed and rolled her eyes, Will managed to catch the stray thought, "_Glory Hog…_" and smiled at her while sending the vexatious query, "_…I thought he was a peacock?"_

~)0(~

"You really shouldn't be out here, you know, Dave."

For this concern-filled statement, he earned what could only be described as a glare, from Constable Brackwater; he raised his hands off the steering wheel for but a moment to shrug in a gesture known universally as '_Whatever, man_…'

Constable Furst glared right back, "Hey, forgive me for caring…I mean, I wasn't the one he slammed through a window now, was I?" His fingers slammed back down to grip the steering wheel tightly to swerve about an oncoming car in the wrong lane…some kid with their brand new license, probably. Any other day the pair would slam on the brakes, whirl about and give chase, sirens blaring! Today was different…

Today, they and the rest of the entire station [bar Nancy from the front desk] were on high alert and scouring the town in search of some crazed man, a potential murderer…and they had let him escape. He pounded his fists on the on the steering wheel. Constable Brackwater turned in the passenger seat to gaze at him, an eyebrow raised at the behavior…but in his eyes there was both sympathy and commiseration. "We'll catch him, Brian, we'll get him…"

Keeping his eyes fixed to the road ahead of him, knuckles white from where he gripped the steering wheel, Constable Furst said in a cold monotone, "Yeah, but…why do I get the horrible feeling we're already too late…?"

~)0(~

A devious plan to be sure. Although, unfortunately, a certain Vampiress [Ingrid, who else?] couldn't stop herself from giggling like a child, at the sight below…

She knelt in the upper branches of a sturdy oak, somehow managing to keep her balance alongside her dignity; the dark robe covering her well-chosen outfit was draped about with such tactical precision, Ingrid herself was nearly made invisible in the darkness of the leaves above. Night was swiftly coming upon them, several hours had blurred and warped the skyline, fog stretching across the horizon, only thinned out by the blazing sunlight dancing through it. Feeling rather devious herself, Ingrid flicked her red eyes back to the crouched form of Will behind her, imitating her invisibility ability in every way…and she did the strangest thing.

Ingrid began to sing…

~)0(~

Brakes screeched, hearts pounded; adrenaline surged like a severed artery through the small cavity of the police car, blaring sirens suddenly far too loud in the intense silence. Still, the relief at the fact they had not struck the strange, darkly caped man -who had appeared from nowhere calling for help…- was exceptionally soothing. Neither of them were to know that, had they hit him, it would have been of little consequence…but still, the Breather Law Enforcers stepped from the vehicle and listened as his carefully-planned speech was recited…

"Oh, Officers! Thank goodness! My son –Vladimir- is missing, he's been missing all day…and so has his little friend, what was his name…Ronald? Rubin? Robin!" The Count did not miss the significant glance that passed between the men, but continued, "And now some strange, crazy man is running about the woods after my only daughter! Please, you must come with me!"

Without a word, both men withdrew their weapons, one spoke into a radio, and then followed him deep into the forest, towards his ultimate goal…

~)0(~

"_Mary had a little bat, little bat, little bat,_

_Mary had a little Bat,_

_With wings as dark as night…_

_Everywhere that Mary went,_

_The bat was sure to get a bite…"_

Eerie laughter echoed through the treetops, fear running cold fingers down his spine in slow, deliberate sensations; they were taunting him… Up ahead in the leaf matter was the strangest sight, all at once the fear dissipated, feelings of elation stirring…he reached for a stake concealed in his jacket and stopped, realising the majority of his arsenal was back in the evidence locker of the Police Station. He cursed, then slipped a hand down inside the left boot, withdrawing a smaller stick of wood; only half-whittled into a proper stake…ah well, it would do it's job.

Three bodies were lying -as dead- in a shallow pit in the center of a forest clearing ahead, half-covered by both dirt and leaf matter; he could easily distinguish all three…Vlad, Robin and his former-son-turned-traitor, Jonathan. Oh, how he would make them pay! There were ways to prolong the-…could staking a Vampire even be considered killing? Or the result 'death'...? It mattered not; they would get what was coming to them…

In his hazed lust for revenge, even he could sense the wrongness to the air…like an animal driven into a gorge, stone on all sides but the one the predator is coming through, sheer sides he cannot climb…and it was then he knew… Even before he heard Ingrid laugh, even before the sirens came closer, even before he reached the pit and found his son grinning back up at him…

He knew…

He was trapped.

~)0(~

Without opening his eyes, he could tell what was going on…a combination of _live_ [so to speak] mental 'video' feed from Ingrid and Will, and what he could hear with his brand new enhanced hearing. Scolding himself, Robin tried to force his body to remain completely still, the urge to peek was almost overwhelming! As was the temptation to just sit up, wave at the two officers who had just entered the clearing with guns drawn, and simply say _Hi!_ _How are you doing? I woke up feeling a little dead this morning, but I'm all good now…oh yeah, Boo!_ You know, just to see what happened…but he didn't.

"Hands on your head, sir, Put your _HANDS ON YOUR HEAD_!" yelled the closest, Constable Furst he guessed [the man once came to give one of those long, cookie-cutter '_Anti-Drugs for a Bright Future_!' speeches on assembly], the voice was therefore familiar and rather soothing…although, he had to bite his lip to stop from laughing…and a thought occurred to him. A very bad thought… _Why hadn't he used something to cover up the damn mark?_

'_Don't worry about it…I'm sure Dad already thought about it…'_ sent Vlad, playing dead beside him; Robin breathed a sigh of relief and then regretted it, tensing as if someone would strike him for the action…no one did, but it felt as if someone should have… They'd actually had to practice playing dead for a full hour before they'd even left the castle…and he kept forgetting not to breathe!

-To be fair, anyone would have gasped in fear at the intensely malicious gaze Ingrid had given as she'd spread the dirt, leaves and generalized debris of the forest floor on the trio; she enjoyed it far too much to be anything but subjective. However, the Count had disapproved and an hour of lying around not breathing was the punishment handed down for the action…-

'_Would you two just shut up and play dead already?' _an annoyed Jonathan thought at them both, not moving at all…there was blood splattered over the trio to make it look more authentic; some theirs and yet most of it from the fridge at the castle. Someone thumped to their knees close by the 'gravesite', heavy breathing tinged with rage and some form of madness…suddenly, his faith in the Count's plan wasn't so steadfast anymore…

Sirens flared louder, frantic screams echoed as many booted feet tramped through the woods in a hasty race to their location; two voices screamed out for Van Hellsing –for that was the only possibility- to drop the weapon. In light of his imminent demise…well, the more permanent one of the day…Robin's eyes flared open and stared transfixedly at Van Hellsing, who never paused as his arm came swinging down, the weirdest stake he'd ever seen clutched tightly in one shaking hand.

With a horrifying, soul-tingling scream, Ingrid leapt from the treetops and directly onto his shoulders… He slammed his eyelids shut again, as he no longer retained the shield of his former Manual Arts teacher's bulky body to hide his not-so-dead-ness behind. The sounds of a scuffle, the Count loudly soothing Ingrid –as any parent should in such a situation, though not –as in this instance- for the attention it brought- and the other cop calling out [with the backing of a dozen or so clicking guns], "Sir, stay down!"

Will's eyes saw, and so did he, as the cop slid his gun into his pant pocket and stepped forwards; the handcuffs jangled and clinked as he wrested Van Hellsing's hands behind his back, "Mr Van Hellsing, you are under arrest for the murder of these three boys, concealing evidence, resisting arrest, attempted murder of that young lady, attacking a police officer and…if I can't find a law against you throwing me through that damn window…I'll make one!" The other cop, Furst, snorted and ruined the moment by whispering, "_Sure, 'Stay Calm, Brian, getting angry won't help the situation' yeah…Hypocrite say What?"_

There was a screaming tussle as Van Hellsing was dragged away, "No, stop! They're Vampires! All of them! Even that one over there, Ingrid, let me at her! Let me kill them-…" his voice trailed away with the sound of firm footsteps in the dirt. A car door slammed further away…then stumbling sounds, and hands began to dig the dirt and leaf matter from about him, and the others.

Someone pressed a trembling finger to his throat, "No pulse on this one!" they cried with a tinge of regret and then, were gone; though another two voices took up the exact same cry. A voice was quite close, one of the original cops…Constable Furst's partner… "Whoa, Brian, what the hell? Come see this!" he yelled, to which the answering cry came closer with footsteps, "What are you on about Dave? I was just- _Holy Hannah_! What did that bastard do to his face?" From somewhere deep within, Robin began to feel rather offended; he rather liked his mark…

They'd recently discovered it showed up in certain mirrors…like the Blood Mirror, and the weird one in the attic…and in the spirit of his usual vanity, Robin had spent a good forty-five minutes posing before it, just admiring the markings. Still, though he was exceptionally hurt by their words, he stayed 'dead'…even if he was having uncharitable thoughts towards the men above him… "I've seen some sick things in my life but, what the hell? Why would Van Hellsing do that to the kid?" asked this 'Dave', to which the other simply replied, "I don't know, Dave. He's one sick man…"

And then things went to Hell in a hand basket…the ambulances arrived…

~)0(~

'**CRAZED PSYCHOTIC KILLS THREE TEENS'**

'_**Stakes Too High: Triple Murderer to Face Trial'**_

''**Vampires Real': Exclusive Interview with Stokley 'Slayer''**

"_**Hell for Parents of Dead Teens!"**_

"**Van Hellsing: Slayer of the Innocent!"**

With horrifying headlines, the newspapers splayed from one end of the country to the other, and yet still, no one could quite believe what had happened…or the why of it. They never would…

~)0(~

The mood was quite somber…everyone was dressed in black and there was a modicum of mourning going on…but not as great as one would expect… After Vlad's father [and a hypnotized Mr Branaugh and Jonathan's mother] had steadfastly fought against the idea of an autopsy for their sons, claiming religious grounds, the funeral had been planned.

All day long, in the castle, Breathers and mortals had streamed past the three coffins; classmates, teachers, random people who felt sorry for them…the entire police force of Stokely; not many others… The entire Branaugh Clan was there, wearing vague expressions that the rest of the world took for grief, and the more…_unusual_ guests, took it for what it was… Jonathan's mother, -who had returned home from a recent conference to find her son dead and her ex-husband incarcerated for not only his murder, but that of two other boys she also knew- was between Mr and Mrs. Branaugh, crying desperately into one of the Count's spare handkerchiefs.

The crowd dwindled as the official ceremony ended, and then further did the crowds dispel until it was time for final farewells of family members before the coffins were to be taken away and the boys cremated. Well, that was the plan…although there were several decorative urns secreted away in a back room with some very spiffy plaques, their names and a tasteful epitaph for each of them engraved on them… Full of what could only be described as 'ash' from the fireplace…

Anyway, deviousness aside, after the Twins had gazed blankly down at Robin for some time and moved on to mutter something over the other two; after Mr and Mrs. Branaugh had had a quiet moment with their son, and the former Mrs. Van Hellsing had farewelled her only child… it came time for the youngest _living_ member of the room to say her piece.

Chloe walked up to the coffins, Zoltan to her side and eyes suddenly dry; she looked down, scrunched her nose and said, "Jerk." Robin's eyes flickered open and he made the universal symbol for 'Shush!' and lay still…she waited, he opened his eye a fraction, "Chloe, I'm trying to be dead here…if you could, you know, not make it look like you're having a conversation with a corpse…that would be magnificent." There was a pregnant pause, "I'll miss you too…"

She smiled and moved on down the line, pausing only to place a peck on Vlad's cheek and squeeze Jonathan's hand before turning away, a slight grin graced her features at the affronted look on her brother's face. She came back and gave him a kiss on the cheek, like she had when she was really little and he, being the older brother, had meant the world to her…and then she was gone.

All the mortals were, actually…

"Alright everyone, it's safe you may come out now…" called the Count in his entertainer's voice, Vampires appeared from every direction and some even descended the stairs from where they'd hidden in the bedrooms. Most importantly, Robin, Vlad and Jonathan sat up and did some much-needed stretching after so many hours playing dead! It was surprising how good it felt just to be able to move your head, blink, sit upright… Ingrid and Will were instantly by Jonno's side, helping him from the coffin and ushering him away to where there was a chair and a steaming mug of fresh blood waiting…in unison he and Vlad cried out, "Hey! What about us?" Looked to each other and laughed, falling back into the coffins…

"Come now, children…" sighed the Count dramatically as they both clambered from their coffins, "Ladies, Gentlemen, I present to you…my son and heir, Vladimir Dracula, and Robin Branaugh, his _Signatum Sanguine Prophetae_ to which he is bound. You have been invited here to witness the adoption of the Marked One into my family…and to celebrate for an entirely different reason. Not only is my daughter to marry, and I heartily welcome Will into the family…but one of their Bloodlings is cause for celebration!" the Count paused so that everyone was waiting with some excitement.

"May I introduce, Jonathan Van Hellsing?" There was a mixture of surprise and hissing at the announcement, but the Count simply smoothed over it, "He defied his father and risked his very life to rescue the Blood-Marked One, and was then awarded in a manner which he knew would crush his father's soul eternally…" Cheering replaced earlier misgivings, he raised two hands high for silence, "but I will not be adopting him. It seems, Ingrid and Will, in their rights, have decided they will take him on as their Bloodling –as any true Vampire would- and I applaud them. Speaking of which, let us get these tedious ceremonies out of the way so we may party!"

And the evening dissolved into confusing formality, strange ceremonies and continual blood-drinking…

~)0(~

From what he understood, which was not much considering there was so much in Ancient Transylvanian, Will and Ingrid were now married, Johnathan was their 'son' or whatever and his last name was now…Dracula? "That about sums it up," smiled Vlad and Robin jumped, forgetting everyone could eavesdrop on his thoughts like that, "Sorry, forgot you didn't know…" Amusement radiated from his friend-turned-Vampire-Brother, he let his baleful glare do the talking…

He was so full of blood it felt like he was an over-filled water-balloon, and was actually in fear of rolling down the stairs he was trying to climb; down in the main chambers the party continued, but there was something they had to do first…

The pair flitted out through the window and were gone until the early hours of the morning…

~)0(~

Startled awake for probably the second time that morning, Vlad's eyes were flaring red and fangs drawn from the sudden fear he had felt; leaping from his coffin, he flitted to kneel by that of Robin, the lid already askew and the new Vampire within flailing in panic. "Hey, you're safe! Wake up! Wake up! Oh come on, don't make me do it again…" he sighed, a sinking feeling as he tried his best to recall the words to a Nursery Rhyme, any Nursery Rhyme… "Uh, _Mary had a little bat, little bat, little bat…_forget this, come on!" He pulled the newly awake and panting Robin upright.

It wasn't uncommon for Bloodlings to wake in fear, it could be difficult to change from living to dead…unlike for him and Ingrid, [they'd been technically dead from the day they were born]…his Father had warned him this would happen. As had Ingrid…damn her for knowing everything!

Robin mumbled something about his family, Vlad, death, lots of blood, purple pigeons, drowning…random words in sentence form –this was normal too- as he maneuvered both of them through his door and down the hall…

~)0(~

"_Rock-a-bye Bloodling_

_In your cof-fin_

_When the Night comes,_

_We'll all go to hunt,_

_If the sun rises_

_Your bones turn to dust…_

_Poof will go Bloodling, Coffin and all…"_

Finishing his _Third_ rendition of '_Rock-a-bye Bloodling_' this dawn, Will was feeling a tad frazzled; yes, that was his word for it, he glared at the coffin in which he just knew Ingrid was lying awake and smirking. Just when he thought Jonathan had finally fallen back to sleep after waking them both with terrifying screams about his father, them and stakes [yelling things out in a manner that didn't immediately bring to mind a family barbecue], the door burst open. Admitting a tired-looking Vlad, dragging a half-asleep Robin, and singing '_Mary had a little Bat_'.

They looked to one another in silent commiseration, Will gestured to just put the other Bloodling in his own coffin -instinctively knowing a lack of sleep was imminent this day- he could hear Ingrid laughing, her coffin lid lifted a fraction and she peered out. Taking one look and disappearing laughing… When she finally re-emerged, dead in the middle of a chorus of '_Rock-a-bye Bloodling_', she remained silent with eyes dancing full of mirth…projecting mental images of blood-filled baby bottles at him, which did not help concentration!

As the last notes faded away, Will turned to face her dead on and let his baleful glance do the talking…before finally stating in a bland, stress-induced monotone, "I thought you were kidding…"

**~)0(~**

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><p><strong>TBC<strong>

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><p><strong>Yes, I hope you loved this awesome chapter as much as I did writing it.<strong>

**Please REVIEW, if you love me!^^**

**~*SailorSilvanesti*~**


	13. Epilogue: A City Built on the Dead

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Dracula, or any of the characters...**

**We have come to the end, dear Readers...Enjoy...**

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><p><strong>Epilogue ~ A City Built on the Dead…<strong>

**~)0(~**

Cool winds howled through the streets, blustering mortals huddled closer together and tugged at their raincoats, umbrellas of all colours creating a rather unique mosaic against the coming dark…rain lashed at the castle's sides. It was beautiful…but still, something nagged at Robin's mind that he could not yet guess, even though their bond was stronger than ever after all these years… Vlad turned from his desk, glancing up from the myriad of parchment documents screaming out for his signature. Sighing heavily, [being Grand High Vampire wasn't all it was cracked up to be –even for the Chosen One], he joined Robin at the window, and gazed down on the scene that held the other so captivated he had felt compelled to share it…

His hand touched the other's shoulder in comfort and concern, "What's wrong?" he asked softly as four familiar shapes emerged from the castle entrance below, into the coming night; one clutching something wriggling. Robin turned to face him, a mournful expression on his features even now and whispered, "_There aren't any flying cars…I kind of expected to see flying cars by now…"_ and Vlad lost his composure completely.

~)0(~

Below, in the street, where his gaze lingered so often on dusk…Ingrid and Will leant against one another, cradling between them the daughter Robin had promised all those years ago and watched as little Drucilla waved her tiny fists in the direction of her brother. In turn, her parents raised their eyes to encompass the love-struck creature their Bloodling had become as he walked down the street, oblivious to all else, holding close a beautiful, familiar blonde creature of magic.

Katie.

~)0(~

His eyes danced as he spoke to the other, "It's lucky one of your 'special' powers just so happened to turn out to be Raising the Dead, Robin…I don't think I've seen him so happy in decades…" he commented and instantly wished he hadn't; pain flared in the swirling red-purple eyes. He had accidentally mentioned 'time' again…a definite_ no-no_ around his brother…

Only last week, Chloe had come to visit them, nearly in her forties, and full of stories of how her own children –Robin's nieces and nephews- were doing. It also happened that the twins had found and married identical twins, Lita and Jane…there were always interesting stories and jokes about mistaken identities… Throughout it all, he saw the way Robin longed to be a part of it all…even if it was only a tiny portion that wasn't ruled by his love for the Vampiric World in which he was so highly exulted…

There was a squeal from the street, Katie was bouncing up and down with a brilliant smile on her sweet pale features…from here, with their enhanced sight, the pair could make out the brilliant blood-ruby ring on her finger… Vlad himself had relinquished it from the Grand High Vampire's treasure trove just the evening before…on Robin's say-so. To change the subject, the other simply smiled that one of his happier prophecies had come true and asked, "How are we going on the Vampire Navy front?" completely taking Vlad off guard. "The _What?_" he countered, surprised, then remembered and began to laugh… "That might take a little while, you remember we all have that little issue with running water? Good call on the ring thing…"

Ingrid was actually bouncing up and down right along-side Katie, motherhood had mellowed out her personality somewhat; Will was giving Jonathan a man-hug as masculinely as physically possible…then, blatantly forgetting the unspoken rules and just hugging him. Beside him, Robin went stiff, the eyes fully purple…

"_Wedded at the silver moon, no flying cars in sight; they should buy in two for one, twins a future plight. I see cribs of blue and gold, gurgling baby boys…if someone would just speak, I could learn their names…_" Robin flinched and shook his head, "Ugh, I hate it when that happens…ruins all the fun in guessing…no, wait, gold is a female colour, right? No, don't answer…do you think I should tell them? No, wait…don't answer that either, I'll ask…I don't like making decisions for people…"

Vlad drew in a deep breath unnecessarily, he knew to what Robin was referring…

~)0(~

_The moon was waning in the sky already, leaving the sounds of raucous laughter, the pair made their way down from the castle with one long flit; settling by the doorway of his former house…he rapped in the door politely as Robin fidgeted by his side. Utensils clattered quietly as dinner was interrupted for the Branaugh parentals; there were footsteps, one male, the other female._

_A garishly-coloured door creaked open, revealing two smiling people, whose expressions became stunned…and slowly morphed into vague confusion…_

"_Why, hello there! Are you aware Bananas are an excellent source of Potassium? Aren't they dear?" Robin's mam said, turning to Mr Branaugh, who responded as ever with, "Oh my, yes, dear…an excellent source indeed!" The shaking clenched fists told him Robin couldn't take much more of this…so he fixed things…_

"You have a third son, I order you to remember him one last time!" _his tone was forceful and worrying, but it worked. As if an invisible screen had been lifted, they finally saw Robin and embraced him…calling for the other children to come and see! Vlad was also profusely hugged, by both Branaugh parentals… the twins appeared, as did Chloe…he found he did not need to reverse the hypnotism the Count had bestowed upon her, for she had broken the spell on her own. Also, most likely, it had a little something to do with Zoltan and those awful herbs that had permanently filled the Kitchen with a smell like antiseptic. _

_He worked his 'magic' on the Twins…who then berated Robin for playing dead and then congratulated him on the 'epic prank' he'd pulled that landed Mr Van Hellsing 'in the slammer' as they so charmingly put it; none seemingly questioning how they were both alive…well, technically… Ushered inside, the next few hours were a recollection of multi-coloured blurs and touching family moments forever seared into their minds for eternity._

_Finally, as the moon dipped low to tempt the horizon into hiding it's light, it seemed Robin had realised what was to be done and let his thoughts reach out to encompass Vlad's own…there was an accord. In unison they spoke, "_Look deep into my eyes…"_ Vlad held them in place with his will, but it was Robin that spoke the terrible words… "_You never had a third son, Twins…you never had a brother, just Chloe…all the photos of another child you see was of a little boy who used to live down the road but died recently. You are all heartbroken but can never quite remember his name._"_

_A single tear rolled down Mrs. Branaugh's cheek. Chloe let out a sob and wrenched her eyes away from his with great force of will, "Please, no…don't make me forget…I won't tell…" she whispered softly. Vlad pushed his own opinion on a torn Robin, and the other changed his words, "_None of you will ever remember my name, my face, anything about me…except for Chloe. She will be the secret-keeper, but you are never to ask her after me. Farewell family, you will not remember me after I leave, but I will always remember you…_"_

_As dawn's early light flooded the world, he and Robin had slipped from the house and flitted back to the castle, both stoically trying to ignore the tears that streamed off of Robin's face…_

~)0(~

"It was the right choice, you know it." Vlad said, but there was still a hollow spot both could sense inside; it had felt so strange…Chloe was always the little one, always the youngest and now… Well, Vampires age differently, he was still only a few years older in looks that he was when he left Stokely and there she was, a full-grown woman with children. Even so, he hadn't exactly been idle in the last few decades…many of his more dramatic prophecies had forestalled rash decisions and stopped numerous assassination attempts on the entire family's lives…not to mention his ability to resurrect the dead was an exceptionally sought after skill. The Slayers were suddenly on the losing end of the battle…

It had all begun after the Count, so recently entrenched in a closed session of the Vampire Council that he and Vlad had found reason to be absent from, had brought him a dying rabbit; it was a test described in the Handbook on Blood Marked Prophets… One of two things could happen…the first, Healing, did not; he never thought he'd the gift for healing. The second however, occurred shortly after the poor little creature had shuddered it's last breath…there was a surge of compassion within him and he felt compelled to reach out and touch the poor creature.

Imagine his surprise when it glowed and leapt back to life with a dramatic gasp! The Count, being the Count, had been delighted at the prospect…and so his training had begun in that area. Culminating in a strangely vague prophecy that only he really understood, and took himself down to the cemetery where the Slayers had placed the ashes of their victims [Witches and anyone else they didn't really like…and burned]. Finding her jar had been a simple affair really, hers was the cleanest…Jonathan used to come in and polish it on occasion; in only four hours, he had worked his very own brand of magic and called forth her body… Luckily, though he could not call forth her clothes with the same efficiency, his vision had been enough to warn him to bring some of Ingrid's clothes…

Presenting her to Jonathan had been one of the warmest moments he could ever remember, his eyes lit up like stars, as did hers; they had been made for each other…with her consent, Jonathan turned her that very night. Thinking back to that time always brought a smile to his face.

"So, a case of Blood Poisoning this time, was it?" smiled Robin at the silently watching Vlad. The other shook himself, "Wha- oh, yes, I have blood poisoning, that Taiwanese donor from last night…I may have suggested it didn't agree with me, or you…for that matter." There was a rather mischievous light to the Grand High Vampire's eyes…and Robin found himself rolling his own red-purple orbs, groaning, "You would have to, wouldn't you?"

It was a well-known fact, wherever Vlad went or whatever he did, Robin was always there like a permanent shadow…and of course, vice versa. So if one was 'ill' surely the other was also… "You know what?" said Vlad suddenly, surprising Robin with the excited edge to the tone, his eyes naturally narrowed in instinctive scrutiny. Wondering who he would have to resurrect if this went past the '_I've got an idea_' stage…

"I think, we should just take the night off…I mean, we could go down and congratulate the others, maybe spend some time with our goddaughter –if Ingrid lets us, or just cause some mayhem…?" An attractive proposal, but…his eyes strayed to the mountain of paperwork on the desk, Vlad waved a hand dismissively, "Pffft, forget that…I'll do it later…anyway, when was the last time we had any real fun? Cabinet meetings, and dealing with dead people –well, the resurrect-me kind- all night and day is certainly difficult after a while, not to mention boring. Let's take some time for _us_…two hundred points to whoever can lose the council protection detail first!" He was, of course, referring to the ten large, muscular vampires that accompanied the pair EVERYWHERE…and were, at this moment, at the doors. All ready to leap in front of a stake to protect either of them at a second's notice…

~)0(~

Baby Drucilla began to cry sharply from the street below, Ingrid and Will stopped to coo at her and ascertain her needs as Jonathan and Katie continued up the street, murmuring sweet –rather _too-sweet_- nothings at one another… Vlad swung open the window panes and stepped up on one window ledge; beside him, Robin alighted the other… Still something was niggling at Robin's mind, "What?" asked an exasperated Vlad.

"I just…you think you could get onto the council about the flying car thing, or should I make a false prophecy?" he asked with complete earnestly sparkling in his eyes. Vlad blinked and began to laugh, and threw himself from the window ledge towards the street below, not even having to look to know Robin followed… mid-air they tumbled and readied themselves to alight the pavement below…

Now, he turned his mind to the problem at hand, _how do I best convince a council of up-tight Vampires we should build a flying car…? _Vlad could feel Robin's ecstatic beam from here…silently cursing his unshielded thinking, Robin's eavesdropping and all manner of things to forestall the reciprocating grin that spread across his features as they touched the ground…

Will and Ingrid turning to greet them, tiny Drucilla waving small hands at Robin and making grabbing motions. Oblivious, Jonathan and Katie gazed at each other until a forceful gust blew them apart in a shower of newspapers…finally drawing their attention to the new arrivals…

He heard the unmistakable flitting sounds of ten large Vampires…Vlad jerked his head towards the building at the same moment Robin nodded, handed Drucilla back to her mother and smiled as they rolled their eyes, "Again, boys?" Ingrid asked. Vlad smiled back with fangs flashing in the moonlight, "Always…"

"So, Vlad…two hundred points to the one who evades the Anti-Fun Squad the longest, loser forfeits his chocolate stash…fair?" Robin grinned, bouncing on his heels to be away; Vlad grinned, "May the best Vampire win…" he said with his ineffable sense of sportsmanship. Robin simply snorted, "Oh, I intend to!" and flitted off into the distance…

Vlad sighed…He had always known eternity with Robin would be interesting. Turns out…he'd been right. Though right now, he had better find a good hiding space or his secretive chocolate stash was forfeit...

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><p><strong>The End.<strong>

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><p><strong>So we have reached the end, thank you for reading this far and your lovely reviews...<strong>

**From me to you, Thank You!^^**

**~*SailorSilvanesti*~**


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